


Heaven's Kiss

by peachlait



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 01:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13260294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachlait/pseuds/peachlait
Summary: She aspires to take over her grandfather’s famous inn and make it prosper, and to do so, she moves to her grandparents’ house to learn from the very best. She will do what she can to make her career blossom, and if that means transferring to a night school to balance both management duties and her education, then so be it! Her new life in this town is starting to look bright, save for a fateful run-in with a certain Grizzly bear. Their first meeting is explosive, and just when she thinks she’ll never have to see him again… he’s seated right behind her in class?!On top of being a huge jerk with no manners, he’s got some sort of control on her that she doesn’t understand. It doesn’t help that when he’s not sleeping in the back of class, the guy is off being mysterious and on-edge. She doesn’t understand him and his rough personality, until she walks in on a sight she wishes she hadn’t seen…The story of a girl who happens to bump into him at all the wrong times, and a vampire who is constantly dragged into her storm. Neither is willing to back down, and both are forces to be reckoned with. Get ready for a turbulent, messy, and sugary sweet romance!





	1. Beware of the Grizzly

_Tulip bulbs, daffodil seeds, orchid seeds, and gloves._

Four, simple items. Yet within seconds, I found myself undoubtedly lost among the endless rows of plastic packets and multitude of fragrances. Appliances of various shapes and sizes lined the aisle just opposite the flower, fruit, and vegetable seeds. My hand would wander to one pair of gloves, then immediately reach for another. Which one did Grandma use, again? The ones that had little rubber stubs, or the ones that were completely smooth? The larger ones, or the more fitted ones?

Eventually, I grabbed what I thought best and turned to the countless seed packets and bulbs. There were so many brands to choose from within the selection that I decided to stick with “Easy Greens” and move on from there. Brushing my finger against each row as I searched for the items felt both unfamiliar and increasingly awkward. Of course, there was no legitimate reason to be so conscious of how supposedly dumb I appeared, my mouth ajar and my eyes blinking at the labels. But as soon as another body stepped into the same aisle, my shoulders tensed and I shifted in place.

 _I’m not a plant expert, okay?_ I justified inwardly to the supposed disapproving stranger.

Briskly, I tossed the orchid seeds and tulip bulbs into the cart. That only left…

“Daffodil seeds!” I gasped, a wave of relief swelling up within me. Normally I couldn’t shop in the Gardening section for the life of me, but this time, the daffodil seeds were hanging conveniently above me. It was the last packet in the shelf, so I made haste in reaching for it.

Just as my fingers grazed the plastic packaging, another (immensely larger) hand gripped the other end of the bag. I raised my head to face my opponent, then… tilted my head further upwards. A broad-shouldered man loomed above me, his tousled mane tied back in a half-ponytail. The sleeves of his sweater had slid down to reveal brawny arms, ones at least twice the size of mine.

Although his narrowed, angular eyes should have made me stumble backwards, my grip only tightened on the packet. Grandma’s garden was just ready to be planted, and if I missed the opportunity to snag these now, I would either have to run to another grocer or return tomorrow. With my school transfer just around the corner, I hadn’t the time nor the energy to make a second trip.

Resolute, I titled my chin upwards, and stared the stranger down. The corner of his lips twitched slightly, his body inching towards mine.

 **“I’d let go if I were you, kid,”** he advised, his gaze unwavering.

 _‘Kid?’ You don’t look all that old either, Mister!_ I wanted to holler, but immediately suppressed the urge. Instead, I relaxed into the most artificial smile of the century, and yanked the packet towards me.

“Excuse me,” I retorted, “but I’ve had my eye on this for a while. And I’m pretty sure I grabbed it first.”

A scoff. Then, the man wrenched the packet towards himself. Holding onto the packet as best as I could, I attempted to dig my feet into the smooth flooring to prevent any stumbling.

 **“And I’m sure _I_ grabbed it first, lady.”** he growled. Although he was a giant compared to me, the brunet was slowly revealing a boyish, competitive nature. Tension grappled the two of us as we fought over the packet, with him yanking the packet in all directions and my body soon following.

In a matter of minutes, the hushed argument became a turbulent one. “Let… go…!” I demanded through breaths. Teeth clenched, the man only persisted in his attempts to snatch the package.

 **“Tch… this… woman!”** he yelled back, struggling to push my arms away.

At this point, our scuffle had gotten the attention of the store clerk, who was bouncing in between us with his sweaty forehead. The clerk mumbled something along the lines of “Please, don’t fight in here…”, but with our glares piercing one another, we only shouted, “Shut up!” right back.

“Ohhh my God…” the clerk fumbled about, his circular glasses nearly dropping off the edge of his nose. “This is my first time dealing with a Code Red… Oh wow…”

We were so caught up in our tussle that the presence of another being didn’t occur to either of us.

“What’s going on here?” a gentle, feminine voice inquired. I, of course, was desperately biting on the packet and barely noticed the girl peeking into the aisle.

“Miss, you don’t want to go in there—It’s a real World War situation down in Aisle Four…”

“Yuma!” she interjected, the items in her hand falling, one by one. The larger man paused mid-headlock, his eyes widening as soon as they landed on the petite figure. He glanced down at me, then at the girl, then back down at me again. I, too, gaped at the girl before us.

With soft, golden curls and doll-like features, she was absolutely stunning. I felt the grip around my head loosen, and I quickly took the packet out of my mouth. ‘Yuma’, as he was called, had his brows knitted, his stare fixated on the packet of seeds.

“Let’s go, Yuma, we don’t have time for this,” she urged, approaching the two of us. Her gaze flitted to me. “You can have the packet, Miss… I’m so sorry for the trouble he caused!”

I only nodded, heat rising up my neck at the thought of my feral appearance just seconds ago. Yet there she stood, graceful, collected, and calm. In this moment, she was everything I was not, yet looked around the same age as me. To think that I had to be seen… like _that…_

Despite the rouge entering my cheeks, I broke into as best of a smile as I could. As soon as she turned to leave, however, most of the embarrassment evaporated. It was just me and the beast once more, but this time, I’d emerged victorious. With overflowing triumph, I watched as Yuma glowered down at me one last time.

 **“If you ever show up in front of me again,”** he warned, his face edging close to mine, **“You’re _really_ going to pay.”**

Shoulders relaxing, I broke into a grin, and nodded cheekily. He ended the conversation with the click of his tongue, stuffing his hands into his pockets before stomping away. Just as his back faced me, I wagged my own tongue, relishing the moment. I then lifted the prize in my hands to examine it. Fortunately, the package was still intact, save for the few teeth marks I’d punctured into the plastic. If it weren’t for the girl’s intervention, the packet would have ripped open and all would have been for naught.

This girl obviously had some sort of influence on him, and I thanked the heavens that she had appeared when she did. I couldn’t help but assume that she was his girlfriend; the way he listened to her so obediently… that had to be it, right? Regardless, it was a wonder that such a soft-spoken person even affiliated herself with him. From his grizzly appearance to his uncouth mannerisms, he was the exact opposite of everything sugary sweet. In fact, Yuma was much like a grumpy bear, storming about and creating messes.

An image of a Grizzly head on top of Yuma’s body entered my mind as I made my way to the cashier. I couldn’t help but snort.

 _Definitely_ a bear.

* * *

 

 _“Love Fortune Cookie! The future ain't that bad... Hey! Hey! Hey!”_ I hummed, an extra bounce in my step as I made my way down the paved streets. The air around me was honeysuckle sweet, its warmth hugging my body. Fellow pedestrians scattered throughout the wide road left me with a sense of comfort and security, the sun slowly slipping below the horizon. Splashes of tangerine, rose, and dandelion hues blanketed the sky, turning shades darker the closer I got to home.

Juggling bags of groceries in my hands, I poked my head up behind the bundle and spotted the familiar enclosure. It wasn’t long after I passed through the door and placed the bags down that my grandmother emerged from the living room.

“I’m back,” I announced, dusting my hands off. Grandma gifted me one of her tender smiles, and welcomed me back home. Simply the curl of her lips could make me feel ease; she had a healing presence, much like a guardian. That day she wore another knitted cardigan atop a flowery dress, the signature look for most gentlewomen her age. When she came closer to help with organizing the groceries, I could smell the light lavender from her grey and brown hairs. As expected, she was working outside again.

I raised my brows and verified, “Grandma, you were in the garden again, weren’t you?”

Eyes lighting up, she nodded. “I was making space for the new plants you brought me.” she explained, lifting up the punctured bag of daffodil seeds and blinking at it seconds later.

“What happened here?”

“Ah… that’s…” I mumbled. My lips scrunched in thought, when it finally hit me, “A bear! Right, a nasty bear was trying to take your daffodil seeds, but I managed to save them just in time. Aren’t I amazing?”

Seeing me wiggle my brows at her, my grandmother broke into a hearty laugh. “Of course you are. Now, if you’re done fighting off bears, will you please help me plant the seeds?”

After burying the seeds in dirt (as well as learning that the gloves I bought were the wrong brand), I headed inside to prepare tea for the two of us. She liked hers herbal and sugar-free, while I enjoyed Earl Grey with just the right touch of sugar and milk. Seated on the veranda, we sipped our drinks in the cool night air. The singing of crickets kept us company as we lounged under the moonlight.

“They’ll look so beautiful when they blossom…” I murmured, already picturing the flowery scape. Though I had no interest in gardening and only helped for Grandma’s sake, witnessing the flowers and fruits paint the tiny yard was a magical experience.

“I think so too,” Grandma chimed, sipping her tea.

She then turned to look at me. “Ah, what about school?”

Nodding, I lowered the cup in my hands. “Everything’s been processed, so I can start attending tomorrow.”

“That’s a relief.” she relaxed, then just as quickly tensed, “Oh, what about your uniform? And your lunch?”

My hands rested atop hers as I assured that I was all set for my first day at Ryoutei Academy. It was a night school, which was a _huge_ change for us, but a necessary one.

Classes were from five to ten to accommodate those working during the daytime, and I happened to be one of those people. I was set to learn management as a supervisor for Kanna Inn—my grandpa’s inn—during regular school hours. My father never showed an interest in taking over the place, but I found management to be my strong point and accepted the proposition. Evidently, the inn was closest to my grandparents’ house, and I volunteered to stay there for the remainder of my school life.

Considering that this town was only a bus ride away from my old home, paired with the fact that I only had one year left of high school, I decided that focusing on my career from now wasn’t going to hurt anybody. My hometown friends and parents were only forty-five minutes away, and the area itself was just the quaint space I adored. The only thing troubling me was my nine p.m. class. By nine and onward, my concentration dwindled, and I could already picture myself nodding off instead of taking notes.

Whatever my worries were, the fact that I was going to be sporting a new uniform and attending evening classes was inevitable. A small smile crept its way up my face at the thought of a new school life. New faces to befriend, new halls to explore, new teachers to learn from... Everything would be unfamiliar. Yet, that very fact was what made my heart race, what made me want to shout out in joy. Perhaps it was the surge of caffeine from the tea, perhaps it was simply excitement; whatever the reason, my thoughts of Ryoutei High shined brighter than the star-speckled sky above us.  

Later that night, Grandpa arrived home with goodies in his arms. He prepared meat for us, claiming that tonight we’d celebrate my acceptance into Ryoutei. I, of course, made no complaints. Once our bellies were filled to the brim, I wished my grandparents a good night, video chatted with my parents, and washed up for the evening.

I curled into the blankets, realizing that this bed would come to be my new hideout. The pillows felt just like I remembered them: plush and comforting, much like the owners of this house. My eyes flitted across the moderately decorated room, envisioning all the cute additions I would add to make it feel like my own. Although there wasn’t much as of that night, the space felt familiar—like it was waiting for my presence.

As the hours passed and my eyelids fluttered shut, I fell asleep knowing that for once, I’d made the right decision.


	2. A Recipe for Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s all set for her new life, but now he’s hurled himself back into her world, and the equation is falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have probably said this earlier, but I have no clue as to whether MC will remain unnamed or not. There's something so great about imagining yourself as the main character, that I can't bring myself to turn her into an OC. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy this chapter! I promise, more interactions between the leads are soon to come.

“Takashi, clear up the Magnolia Room, and report back to the kitchen when you’re done!”

“Ayu, the guests in the Clover Room need hot towels!”

“Pick up the pace, everyone!”

Servers and housekeepers weaved in and out of the rooms, their feet pit-patting against the wooden floorboards. Meanwhile, the aroma of spices, sizzling meat, and sugary delicacies melded together in the kitchen, a harmonious mix were it not for the rush and bustle. Shouts from beyond the kitchen’s swinging doors could be traced to none other than the main chef, Eizo, a bulky, weathered man in his late forties. Apparently, after my grandfather, Eizo was the most respected (and feared) staff member. Even though I was never on the receiving end of his admonitions, I’d heard enough within the past hour to infer what horrors were in store if I _were_ to work for him.

Fortunately, I was safe and sound as I shadowed my grandfather, the big boss of the establishment. He showed me around the place, describing how Grandma inspired him to make each room flower-themed. In fact, his own office, the Lavender Room, was named after Grandma’s favorite plant.

The rooms themselves were stunning; each had a light fragrance corresponding to the flower it was named after, along with the personal touch of floral arrangements and handmade lanterns. Beyond the traditionally-designed building was a bridge leading up to the pond and nature trail, both made to be explored freely. However, I was not given the chance to explore them just yet.

Grandpa thought it necessary to have me greet each guest, and in doing so, I met many peculiar characters that morning. From a journalist currently in a slump to a set of mischievous triplets and their single mother, each guest carried their own, unique story. I was advised that in order to better serve those staying at the inn, I should get to know the guests and try to tailor their stay to match their preferences. As such, I spent most of the day taking notes and chatting with all sorts of people.

Above all, I learned that my grandfather’s dedication to Kanna Inn was unrivaled; he poured his heart and soul into ensuring that each guest could leave their burdens behind and come to feel ease under the inn’s roof. But, his focus was not only reserved for visitors. He had a special place for both guests and staff alike, and maintained strict rules of courtesy on both sides. Mutual respect, as he liked to say, was the key to any business’s success.

It wasn’t hard to see why people loved him so much. Even when some disagreed with his direction or ideas, no one could say a single word of distaste about the man himself. His sincerity was what drove the place, what motivated each soul to do their best. As the day progressed, I became more and more unsure if I could live up to the legacy he was leaving behind. Was I even qualified for the position? Was Grandpa simply handing it to me out of pity, or some sense of tradition? Had I not yet earned my place here?

Though bug-season was still months away, the questions swarmed through my brain like a colony of incensed wasps. Even as I helped clean up after lunch and headed back home, I couldn’t help but agonize over the reality that my grandfather had set the bar quite high. If things were to go as planned, I was to take over the inn at the age of twenty-one. Obviously, I had volunteered for this and was more than excited to go through with the deal. However, it was only after I saw my grandfather in action that I grasped what position I was to fill. In a mere four years, I would have to become the person my grandfather once was. Everyone would look to _me_ for direction, hence it was essentially going to be my decisions that would either fortify or ruin the business.

Whether the inn would prosper or not was going to be up to _me._

Releasing a heavy breath, I turned the corner, stepping on fallen blossoms on the road. The heavens above were clouded and dense, on the brink of a rain shower.

Once back inside, I was met with the ticking of the grandfather clock and the whistling of a tea kettle.

I managed a faint curl of the lips, taking off my shoes and slipping into velvety slippers.

“I’m home,” I announced, my features softening at the sound of Grandma’s voice. When I peeked into her room to see what she was up to, I spotted her hunched behind the sewing machine, with a variety of colored fabrics spread out beside her.

“What’s all this for?”

She paused mid-sew, melting all my worries away with her classic smile. “I’m just finishing adjusting Saki’s dress. She got one size too big, the poor girl…”

Knowing Grandma, Aunt Saki probably protested six times to the adjustments, yet still gave in because Grandma was so intent on making her daughter’s clothes perfect. It was a wonder that although Aunt Saki lived in the U.S., my grandmother still recalled her measurements, and exactly which fit Saki enjoyed. Truly, Grandma was a blessing.

Seeing her work so wholeheartedly made my concerns as miniscule as the needle laying right beside her. If my grandmother could dedicate herself to something and glisten this bright, then so could I. After all, we were related; I had to have _some_ talent in me.

The clock hanging on the wall read three-thirty. As much as I wanted to linger with Grandma and hear all about her day, time was ticking, and my new school life was waiting.

The hour passed with me savoring lunch, pressing my uniform, packing my bag, and checking myself out in said uniform. For now, all thoughts of Kanna Inn were put on pause. Instead, my attention was directed to an undeciphered problem with my new look. I couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong; the ribbon, accents, and layered skirt meshed beautifully, yet my face seemed out of balance. Was it the failed attempt at a voluminous blowout? Or was it the position of my parting?

I picked and prodded at my hair, struggling to fix whatever mess I’d created. Eventually, Grandma poked her head through the doorway, informing me that I had only a few minutes left. _Yikes._ I took that as my cue to run my hands through the makeshift do one last time, grab my school bag, and bolt out the door.

The trees were in full blossom, gracing my walk to school with an exquisite path of baby pink against a sunset-brushed backdrop. Fortunately the house was near Ryoutei, meaning that it wasn’t long before more bodies joined me on the road. A pair of students with linked arms brushed past me, describing their anxieties about this year’s class rosters. Meanwhile, a group on the opposite side of the road burst into laughter at one of their friend’s antics.

Seeing how everyone was already paired up and returning to a school they belonged in left me just the tiniest bit lonely. The majority of me was thriving off the energy they were emitting; the more they giggled and bounced about, the more I anticipated finding my place in the academy, as well.

Nearing the tall, metal gates, I halted before the building to smooth out my skirt and adjust the straps of my bag. Students strolled by, their conversations deafening as I stared up at the gold lettering: _Ryoutei Academy._ The words rolled off my tongue like silk.

Not only was Ryoutei much larger than I imagined, it was much livelier in person. As I approached the main doors, I had already been stopped by two people welcoming me to the school and offering a map for the building. Perhaps it was simply because it was the first day that the staff and students were so energetic, but it certainly did no favors for my current state of mind. As far as I was concerned, being accepted at this prestigious school was a miracle. The fact that I was _really_ here, stepping onto the pristine floors of the front lobby, was creating quite the buzz within me.

My gaze stopped at the delicate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, effortlessly illuminating the spacious room. Each teardrop-shaped light was fastened to a crystal piece, complementing the gold body of the chandelier.

 _I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s real gold,_ I thought, before a tap on the shoulder snapped me back into reality. Quickly, I shut my gaping mouth, and turned to face the person speaking to me.

“You must be new here.” a woman, probably in her twenties, stated. _Of course_ I looked like I was new here; I was the only one frozen in place, like an idiot!

The woman curled a piece of sleek, hickory-colored hair behind her adorned ear. I flattened my own mop out in hopes of diminishing any possible frizz.

When I responded with an affirmative, she beamed, “Welcome to Ryoutei Academy! We’re so happy to have you joining us. My name is Ishikawa Marie, and I’m a student advisor—here to answer any questions you may have and guide you around the building!”

_Wow, that sounded rehearsed._

Shaking her outstretched hand, I returned the beam. I took the initiative to ask where the rosters were, as I didn’t see them outside. Upon showing me to the front desk, Marie located my roster, and helped me find my first class. The woman was awfully helpful, but I couldn’t help feel bad for her; she was wearing stuffy heels, and a smile was plastered on her face at all times. That had got to be uncomfortable.

“Room 314, Building D.” she announced, as if that was the most regular thing in the world.

 _There’s three floors?! Just how big_ **_is_ ** _this school…?_

Naturally, I kept my lips shut, and followed the advisor up the stairway. If even the numbering system of this school’s rooms was different from what I was used to, then I highly doubted anything after this point would be familiar. Truthfully speaking, the entire building and its system was more like a university than a high school.

Two staircases and fourteen rooms later, we came to a stop. I found myself before a sliding door, then escorted in just seconds later. Around twenty heads, including the teacher’s, spun around to look at me. The rest were either too invested in their conversations to care, or catching up on sleep. Regardless, I suddenly felt like a specimen under investigation; the teacher ushered me in and dragged me to the front of the class, where I was under the scrutinizing eyes of my classmates.

Marie left as soon as she had arrived, but not before recapping who I was to my new teacher. He turned and smiled down at me, and I simply did what I was doing all along: awkwardly reciprocate.

“Everyone, attention please. We have a new student.” he announced, as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “Please, introduce yourself.”

Unlike what I’d seen on television, the so-called “snobby rich kids” were—for the most part—not the least interested in me, or at least, not interested enough to give me scornful glances or frown upon my averagely-priced shoes. Instead, they stared at me vacantly because they would get demerits if they didn’t shut up about the Italian leather clutch they’d bought the other day, or the new restaurant that opened up in the plaza. It only took one glance to understand that bullying was not their pastime, and that they would much rather prefer getting on with the introductions and returning to their everyday lives.

Consequently, I made haste in introducing myself, keeping it short and simple. It was refreshing to see that my classmates were just as nonchalant as I’d hoped, as that made getting used to the environment a whole lot easier. I finished off with a bow, and the class applauded me before I made my way to my new seat.

I was assigned a spot in the second-to-last last row, at the very end of the row. It was also the seat just in front of a burly, dozing figure.

Just as I reached my desk, I took a closer look at my snoozing neighbor. Though, his face was conveniently facing downwards, the more I observed, the quicker my smile disappeared. Not only was he twice my size, his brunet, disheveled mane was tied up in a style I knew all-too-well. More than his giant fingers, it was the half-ponytail that struck a chord in my mind. Every cell in my body tensed, the enthusiasm suddenly plummeting into an abyss of horror. My features paled, and my mouth was ajar.

It dawned upon me that this sleepyhead was no ordinary classmate.

No, this was a living, breathing Grizzly.

* * *

“It was during the Neolithic era in which human nutrition took a downturn. Small groups of hunter-gatherers transformed into sedentary societies…”

Chapter one of _Fletcher’s Comprehensive World Study_ faded into the back of my mind. Rather than concentrating on the lesson, I was being bombarded with a million perturbations. Had I seen correctly? Was the irksome Grizzly really seated right behind me? I never imagined he would be a student at Ryoutei, let alone a high schooler!

More importantly, did he realize who _I_ was?

 _That isn’t possible_ , I argued, _he’s sitting behind me._  

Although it _did_ feel like a pair of eyes were glued onto my back, I ignored the sensation and decided to assuage myself with a spoonful of logic. Boys growing out their hair was coming back into fashion, so the hairstyle wasn’t necessarily a decisive factor. And it wasn’t as if Yuma was the only one blessed with enormous bones; there were plenty of tall men in the world. Granted, seeing two people with a strikingly similar build and style was a rarity, but there _was_ still a chance that my seat neighbor was someone else entirely.

“...Boring…” a deep voice complained just behind my shoulder. Stiffening, I held my breath as the being yawned, eventually relaxing against his seat and _away_ from my neck.

 _That was him, that was definitely him, that was_ **_most_ ** _definitely him—_

“Are you all right, student?”

My head shot up to face the professor, who stopped before my desk wearing a concerned expression.  Without realizing it, my entire face had contorted; my nostrils were flared and my lips were scrunched together in a mix of deep thought and perplexity.

Immediately, my features flattened, and I nodded quickly. I assured him I was fine, but that was a clear lie. Not only had I recognized the irritatingly husky voice, it was the _same_ , irritatingly husky voice that had threatened to “make me pay” if we’d ever crossed paths again. In other words, if I so as turned around, _I would be dead meat._

As class proceeded, I contemplated darting out of the room and locking myself in a bathroom stall. However, that move was not only cowardly, but ineffective. One way or another, I was going to be caught. That, my brain asserted, was simply the fact of the matter.

There was no use in running, nor in hiding. Just like every other hurdle in my life, I would have to face this head-on. Besides, I had showed the man up once before, meaning I could very well do it again, right? After all, I was the daughter of two brilliant parents, and the granddaughter of a successful businessman and versatile grandmother. Just like my predecessors, I could handle this with grace and intelligence. If all else failed, I could roll up my sleeves, and dive headfirst into the volcano that was this situation.

Either way, I assured myself I could emerge victorious once more. My school life would remain relatively untouched, and I could proceed with accomplishing my dreams the way I’d hoped. That boy could threaten anyone he liked, but _I_ would never be shaken by his words.

Wallowing in self-confidence, I cleared my throat, and continued jotting down notes for the remainder of the lecture. Life, sadly, is not always such a cakewalk. Unwittingly, I was setting myself up for a lengthy, relentless deathmatch. One that would prove to be _far_ bigger a bite than I could chew.


	3. The Price to Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said second encounters were fun?

“Class is dismissed.”

Those three, fateful words crashed onto my shoulders like a ton of barbells. It looked like my face was already contorting again, because a girl seated near me was staring, obviously weirded out. Over and over, I reminded myself of who I was, how strong of a person I could be. I told myself to keep my composure, and relaxedly sorted my belongings into my bag. My face, however, was an obvious giveaway; my brows were knotted upwards, while I couldn’t help but chew on my lip. My nostrils were doing their thing, as well.

In essence, I was a ball of misery and regret, doing everything in my power not to be noticed by a certain someone. I felt some movement behind me, and slowed my breathing.

_You can do this. You’re strong, exceptionally talented, and not to mention—_

More movement. A yawn. Then, the sound of someone rising from his desk. On cue, I cleared my throat, blinking away my anguish. My features relaxed into a neutral state, and I calculatedly drooped my head into my bag, as if I was searching for something.

The target sauntered past me, muttering to himself about how it should be illegal to give such tiresome lectures. Once I was certain he was far from my desk, I lifted my head up. Fortunately for me, Yuma was distracted by the sight of a familiar-looking blonde. It only took seconds for me to register that he was now talking to the supposed girlfriend I’d humiliated myself in front of just yesterday.

 _Seriously?_ I groaned inwardly, _This is way too small of a world…_

Hastily, I ducked my head back down, pretending to be interested in anything but them. Only when I was sure the two had left did I rise once more, zipping my bag up for the day. Students were now down to a minimum, and even the teacher was packing up and leaving. In other words, I was totally safe.

 _Phew. That was a close one._ I thought, then immediately stopped short. Why _was_ I even hiding? Hadn’t I promised myself I would face the boy head-on?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I whispered harshly, knocking myself on the head.

“I don’t think you’re _that_ stupid.”

Nearly yelping, I whirled around in my seat to come face-to-face with one of the most gorgeous people I had ever seen. I lowered my hand, taking the moment to appreciate this stranger’s striking blue eyes and flaxen hair. In fact, I daresay, he looked awfully similar to…

“M-Mukami Kou?” I cried, only to cover my mouth a second later. He smiled, his eyes crinkling into two, perfect crescents. However, even his refreshing looks weren’t enough to remove the frown on my forehead. To begin with, I was utterly thrown off by the appearance of none other than Japan’s hit singer, model, and dancer in the same space as me. If I’d known I would be bumping into Kou at my new school, I would have put in a little more effort in styling the nest that was my hair.

As I remained lost in his glittering eyes, he inquired, “If I give you an autograph, will you keep it a secret that I was here?”

I could only nod, swallowing as I watched him languidly hop off the desk adjacent mine and stride over to Yuma’s. He pressed a finger to his lips and shot me a wink, before whipping out a marker and doodling something onto his desk. My frown only deepened as I watched; did the two know each other somehow? Whatever their relationship was, it was certain that Yuma was not only affiliated with a girl with killer looks, but a renowned idol as well. Who _was_ he, really?

Once Kou was finished with his secret mission, he graced me with a present, and headed on his way. As the idol left, I looked down at the autograph.

He’d misspelled my name.

* * *

My next class, Biology, unraveled rather smoothly. Since I didn’t have to worry over facing the six-foot-and-something-inch man, I could tune into class with a clear mind. Much of the period, however, was instruction and an overview of procedures, meaning that there _was_ no real need to pay attention. Instead, I looked back over the past hours and contemplated my next move.

For one thing, I _had_ to stop fretting and start listening to my brain instead. Sure, picturing confrontation with a gruff, hostile creature had hindered me earlier, but the next time we bumped into each other, I would have to push those feelings aside. I wasn’t just anybody; I was a girl with a bright future ahead of her, a girl with ambitions that could rival any of his intimidations.

A curl of the lips managed to sneak its way up my face.

As Mukami Kou himself said, _I wasn’t_ **_that_ ** _stupid._

* * *

The next period on my schedule was a much needed lunch break. I expected that the break room would far exceed my imagination, and I was correct.

It was as if Ryoutei hadn’t ever learned the word of moderation; the break room on the first floor resembled a wedding hall, with embellished, long tables of food at the back and side of the expanse, and circular tables with plush chairs spread throughout. There were floral centerpieces on each table, but it wouldn’t have been out of place to throw in some candles, shower the place with rose petals, and have waiters walking about. For a final touch, chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, adding a mountain of elegance to the space.

Though I could have stood speechless, the shrimp scampi was calling out to me, coaxing me to dig in. I obediently followed through, heaping spoonfuls on my plate.

_This isn’t a school, this is definitely a palace!_

Just as I thought this, a voice claimed nearly the same thing.

“This can’t be a school; this is a castle!”

I turned to find a tinier form gasping at all the food choices. The girl tied her coffee-colored hair to the side, her bangs delicately framing her face. Her expressions were so animated I couldn’t help but chuckle, being reminded of my antics earlier that day.

She blinked up at me. “Oh—sorry!” she laughed, tugging at the ends of her blazer, “I guess I’m just not used to the world of rich people.”

Immediately, I shook my head. “Trust me, I’m not either.” My words obviously took her by surprise, as her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“You’re a scholarship student, too?” she asked, her honey orbs glistening.

“Oh… No, I’m not,” I revealed, my cheeks reddening at the realization that I was standing before a possible genius. If it weren’t for my grandfather’s connections, I probably would not have enrolled; the director was close to Grandpa, and thus offered me a chance for a more reasonably priced admission. It never occurred to me that some students were actually competing for merit-based scholarships just to attend Ryoutei.

She waited for me to continue, understandably confused. I, of course, moved the topic along, asking for her name instead. The girl introduced herself as Mizushima Ran, a second-year. So, not only was she more adept than I, but younger as well. Somehow, instead of being the admired senior, I was already holding the second-year in high regards.

After introducing ourselves, we decided to head over to the nearest vacant table and plunge into conversation. Ran shared her family life briefly: she was the daughter of divorced parents, and currently living with her dad in a nearby apartment. Despite her parents’ separation, the entire family was still a lively bunch. Her mother would even visit on holidays, effortlessly embarrassing her father with stories from the past every time. Overall, I could tell that Ran was incredibly loved, through thick and thin.

We found much common ground, with her eventually prying out the fact that I was Kanna Inn’s next-in-line and subsequently “ooh”-ing and “ahh”-ing. Apparently, her brother used to work at the inn, and now that _I_ was going to spend my days there, Ran claimed she had another excuse to visit.

Eventually, we cleared off our plates and stacked them in the appropriate place. So far, I didn’t run into a certain brunet, so I let go of the possibility of an immediate encounter. Chatting with Ran relaxed my nerves, convincing me I really _was_ ready to move on with my life.

We parted ways just as the bell for the third period sounded. Books in hand, I hurried to my next class. There were so many similar-looking rooms and halls, it was a miracle that I was able to navigate to the correct location. I finally turned the corner that lead to Room 207, peeking down at my map ever so often as I strolled down the hall.

From the opposite end of the corridor, I spotted a large figure making its way toward me. At first I thought nothing of it, my attention solely on the whereabouts of my next class. I trod along, the sound of my Oxfords against the smooth flooring in tune with the heavy steps approaching me.

I finally peeked up from my map to find myself standing right before my literature class. My features visibly perked at the sign “Room 207”, and I reached out to touch the door handle. Simultaneously, long fingers brushed over mine. The frigid sensation made me pull back, and I tilted my head to find the source.

Sharp, electrifying eyes landed upon mine, freezing every cell in my body. With my lips parted, I stood before the towering creature, every sight and sound around me slowing. He sported the same, unkempt mane from my memories, but this time, it accentuated his tapered jaw and pointed eyebrows.

Undeterred by the glower souring his chiseled face, I titled my chin upwards. Our gazes wrestled, the hostility in his as unrelenting as the shrewdness in mine.

He dug his hands in his pockets and arched his body over mine, silently asserting dominance.

**“You really didn’t listen, did you?”**

The man edged closer, and it took every bit of energy not to stumble back. He shortened the distance between us until strands of his hair fell over my shoulder like a curtain. As I registered the current situation, Yuma’s lips smoothly curled into a smirk.

 **“Didn’t I warn you? If you ever showed up in front of me again…”** he lowered his voice, an unfamiliar cruelty entering his gaze, **“You’d have to pay.”**

* * *

Folding my arms, I squinted up at my opponent. His face was only inches away, and though, admittedly, I was initially taken aback, the moment his mouth opened, I remembered all the reasons why he chafed me so.

“I think there’s some misunderstanding here…” I began through gritted teeth, “ _You’re_ the one who hopped back into my life. _Who’s going to pay who..._ ”

I muttered the last part to myself, rolling my eyes ever-so-slightly. At my actions, the boy’s lips twitched, his glower carrying all the contempt in the world.

**“You’ve got some nerve…”**

He leaned back, releasing a vexed sigh. I thought I was putting up a good fight… until I spotted him cracking his knuckles and rolling his head back. The veins in his neck bulged, and the look washing over him could only be defined as murderous. Instantaneously, my eyes enlarged twice their usual size, and I lurched for the door.

 **“Oi!”** Yuma roared behind me, but I was already in full “escape-mode”.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I repeated, scrambling to an empty seat. Fellow students watched as I hastened to drop my belongings on the desk, right before a giant someone came bursting through the door.

In the span of milliseconds, I somehow became deeply invested in Aristotle’s work on the scientific method. I nodded to myself as the imposing figure sped toward me, highlighting a random sentence at the end of the page. Nonetheless, my facade was not enough to curb his wrath, as the man snatched the textbook in my hand with an unrivaled force.

Brandishing the book before me, Yuma clicked his tongue, then slammed his hand down on my desk. I could only return his incensed expression with a sheepish smile—one that only worsened my situation.

**“You… You’re dead!”**

I swallowed hard, my lips pursing as I braced for a punch.

“Students, what’s going on here?”

Just as Yuma raised his hand, a teacher—no, an _angel_ —arrived at the scene of the crime. A huge sigh escaped my lips, but there was no time to relish the moment. I quickly pointed at the boy towering above me, and opened my mouth to rat him out.

As if reading my mind, the Grizzly shot me a venomous glare, one that was enough to shut me up. I settled on giving the excuse that we were simply “fooling around”, but every bit of me wanted to claw at his aggravating face. Although I knew that reporting him for school violence was only going to backfire, I couldn’t help but seethe over the fact that he had even the slightest bit of influence over me. Only minutes earlier, he wasn’t afraid to scratch my precious face… yet now, I was letting him get away with it?

I slumped into my chair, silently cursing him as I watched him settle into a seat.

“I hope only unpleasant things happen to you,” I spat under my breath, dusting off my textbook, “I hope you’re forever haunted by the image of me, until the day you die… No, even after you die!”

Yuma tilted his head back to bestow upon me a top-of-the-line sneer, and I felt my fingers tighten around the edges of the book I was holding. Although he did not look back at me again for the rest of class, my stomach was a raging pit of fire, fueled by the animosity I held towards him.

It was only a matter of time before we would cross paths once more, and the torment would only continue from thereon. My perfect, new life at Ryoutei was at stake; people were already whispering about what they’d just witnessed. If this went on, I could only imagine how sullied my reputation would be by the end of the semester. I had to devise a new plan—one that would quench the beast before I became its midnight snack.


	4. A Ray of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things go awry, an unexpected revelation befalls the heroine. Are the tables finally turning, or is this simply too good to be true?

Once the voyage through Shakespeare’s early life and influences was complete, our teacher shut off the projector, signaling the end of class. For most, this meant a five minute break in between the periods, in which they could find relief in a water or bathroom break. Alas, I was not one of the majority. The moment I stowed my books away, I knew the following minutes would be the longest ones in my life.

Importunate and increasingly cross, Yuma sauntered towards me. His eyebrows were as arched as ever, the same, murderous look falling over him. At these times, I was yet again in awe at how anyone could stand the brute.

 **“Get up.”** he ordered, the abrasive edge to his voice making me flinch. Though I longed to remain nestled into my chair, away from the torment I was soon to endure, his unflinching stare had some hypnotic effect on me. It was the very same feeling I’d tried to resist earlier, yet this time, I was sure that victory would be in his hands. Grudgingly, I got to my feet, only to be wrenched towards him by the wrist. The boy obviously had no sense of cordiality; he dragged me out of the classroom and down the hall, ignoring my exclamations.

“Let… go!” I commanded for the sixth time. As we turned into an isolated corner, he finally released his grasp on me. I shot him a venomous stare as I rubbed my aching wrist. I could now affirm that this man had extraordinary muscles, ones that could break bones effortlessly.

Paying no heed to the damage he’d caused, Yuma stuffed his hands into his pockets, his lips turned downwards. **“Shameless as ever, aren’t ya?”** he growled, referring to the scowl spoiling my expression. **“I should just suck you dry…”** he then muttered to himself.

My frown only deepened as I tried to understand his words. Perhaps it was an abstract metaphor.

Rather than get lost in contemplation, I decided to speak up for myself. “This is violence!” I contended, raising the reddened wrist, “I can have you suspended for this!”

Eyes narrowing, Yuma opened his mouth to retort, but I quickly continued, “My family’s quite influential in this area. If I want, I can even have you expelled.”

It was at these words that something ignited within his coppery eyes, something incredibly dark and resentful. If looks could kill, I would have already been chopped and seasoned.  

 **“Shut up!”** he boomed, hurling his fist toward me. My eyes promptly squeezed shut, only to snap open at the realization that I was not his target. The wall just beside me quaked, while my cheek was left untouched. Breaths quickening, I felt my lips part as my gaze fell to the curled fist only millimeters away from me.

My words had no effect on the man. Instead, it was as if I had just sparked an unquenchable bloodthirst, one driven by fervent distaste. It was the very first time I’d ever witnessed such belligerence, and everything that came out of my mouth just seemed to make things worse.

Cautiously, I lifted my head to glance up at him. His face drew near mine, invading the invisible bubble which shrouded me.

 **“Acting like you’re all high and mighty… Using your so-called ‘influence’...”** Yuma hissed, sending shudders through my body, **_“I hate girls like you the most.”_ **

_Hate._ Although the feeling was mutual, it was the manner in which he spat those words which left me momentarily speechless. No one had _ever_ admitted that they despised me, let alone _disliked_ me. To have actually heard those words from someone after seventeen years of living, I could not think of a proper response. Something pressed against my chest, as if his words were weights crashing down upon me.

Our gazes locked onto one another, our breathing somehow synchronized. With my lips flattened, I attempted to clear my mind, in hopes of being able to spit back a biting remark.

“W-well, you’re in luck,” I sputtered, “I can’t stand the sight of you!”

The twitch of his lips left me wondering what he was going to frighten me with next. Though he could snap me in two if he so desired, something was preventing him from doing so. Instead, he continuously tormented me with threats and intimidating stares, just on the brink of murder. Secretly, I speculated over what could possibly be stopping him from physically shutting me up.

I didn’t have time to think, however, as the boy in question uncurled his fist and pressed his palm against the wall, slamming his other hand near the other side of my head. Again, I winced, my reactions only encouraging him.

 **“You’re lucky to still be alive…”** Yuma revealed, **“After ruining** **_that_ ** **day, of all days…”**

Before I could press for an explanation, he lifted his chin menacingly, and continued, **“How are you gonna pay me back, woman?”**

As bizarre and minuscule as it sounded, perhaps I really _had_ spoiled his plans by snagging the last seed packet. But my actions could never be the direct cause of his misfortune, so there was no sense in blaming me for it. In fact, the way he’d cornered me and demanded for an answer was beyond petty. If he so _desperately_ needed that divine seed packet, he might as well have rushed to another store to buy one!

I felt the injustice wrench at me, and made sure to give him an earful.

“ _Pay you back?_ ” I repeated incredulously, “I haven’t done anything wrong! I’m sorry your little date didn’t work out, but that isn’t _my_ fault.” Regardless of whether I’d hit the nail on the head or not, I applauded myself for the quick thinking.

At my assumptions, Yuma’s expression hardened. Through gritted teeth, he fumed, **“Don’t say things you don’t know shit about.”** With each syllable, his breath tickled my neck, and I became acutely aware of the distance between us. From this close, I could take in his uncannily pale skin and inhale the woodsy scent he carried. I hadn’t noticed this before, but his natural fragrance weirdly reminded me of my grandmother’s. Zero lavender and _much_ thicker, but similar nonetheless.

A wave of hostility crashed over us. I held my breath, my fists curling as I struggled against the urge to claw at his tangled hairs. In the meanwhile, the man stepped backwards, cracking his knuckles as if it were the most normal thing in the world.  

Although his body was no longer inches from mine, I couldn’t tear myself from the wall. Instead, I remained frozen in place, watching his every move. As the heavy silence began to lift, Yuma lolled his head backwards just as he’d done so earlier. Panic gripped at me, convincing me that this time, it would not end with simple threats.

“Are you really that low?” I finally blurted, my nerves in a wreck, “You’re going to hit a girl for opening her mouth?”

Squaring his shoulders, the man in question remained unbothered, his expression detached. **“You’re only asking for it.”** he justified, scanning me up and down as if deciding which bone to break first. My instincts told me to run for it, but as soon as I hoisted myself off the wall, two, large hands hurled me against it once more. Crying out, I reached for the back of my head, but my arms were effortlessly pinned above me.

At this point, my eyes were pressed shut, obscuring the being hovering above me. I knew that if he were to lay another finger on me that he would be faced with grave consequences, but in the moment, I was overcome with fear. Yuma radiated an unconstrained confidence, one that I now realized could drive him to butcher me into pieces.

Through the nauseating surge of terror, I managed to slip in a prayer, in hopes that the heavens would heed my pleas. Just as I did so, a voice fittingly broke the tension between us.

“Yuma.”

I snapped my eyes wide open, the cells in my body flooding with relief. We turned to meet the scornful gaze of an elegantly built form. The student who happened upon our feud was slender and sharp-featured, his dark coiffure complementing silvery eyes. Though his brows were as aggressively arched as Yuma’s, there was an aura of poise emanating from him—an attribute that was sorely foreign to a certain Grizzly.

With the simple call of his name, this stranger commandeered Yuma’s attention. I watched in fascination as the brute released his grip on me, backing away as he was told.

 **“You got one hell of a sixth sense, Ruki,”** the taller man grumbled, languidly itching the back of his head as if he  _hadn’t_ just nearly beat a girl up. The incomer—apparently named Ruki—wore a look of genuine concern. The tone of his voice, however, radiated frustration.

“I have to,” he snapped, “otherwise you’ll end up with another fifteen demerits.” His steely gaze dropped upon me, and I only swallowed in response. Quickly forgetting my presence, he returned to scolding the boy towering above him.

“You can’t afford to start the year like this,” Ruki continued, ignoring the sour expression on Yuma’s face, “Not again—”

 **“—All right, all right!”** Yuma interjected, side-eying me quickly. My glances switched between the two men, a million questions forming at the back of my mind. One of my more pressing questions was why, and _how_ , the beast ever befriended someone as collected and polished as Ruki. Based upon their interactions, I also conjectured that this was not the first time Yuma acted out; it seemed like the Grizzly was quite the wreck, and that it was Ruki’s habit to pull him out of these situations. They obviously shared some connection, one that made no sense to me.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the boys turning to leave. Curiosity gnawed at my stomach, but the aftereffects of being roughhoused lingered, forcing me to zip my lips. I flexed my wrists instead, clicking my tongue at the persisting pain.

Although I wanted nothing more than to slam the ruffian to the ground, his form was already departing. As the two retreated, I overheard a peculiar sentence that left me beyond disturbed.

“Don’t even think about feasting on her.”

Eyes widening, I stood in shock at Ruki’s crisp statement. _Feast?_ What sort of sick fantasies did Yuma entertain?!

Revulsion rose from the pit of my stomach. I shook my head once, twice, thrice. Anything to rid myself of the assumptions clouding my brain. Maybe I’d heard wrong, I reasoned. It was highly likely, much more likely than a teenage boy to consider “feasting” on a classmate—whatever that meant.

Regardless of the true meaning of Ruki’s words, I knew that Yuma was the walking definition of pure evil. He was unafraid to use violence, letting his emotions get the better of him. Moreover, he was incredibly talented at holding grudges, taking them to the next level. It was a miracle that I even made it out alive.

I was in such a shock that it only occurred to me later, as I aimlessly wandered down the halls, that I now had some ammunition to defend myself with.

Ruki had, in a matter of seconds, revealed Yuma’s fragile studentship at Ryoutei. It seemed that attending Ryoutei meant a great deal to Yuma, despite his efforts to veil any attachment. If the delinquent’s graduation chances were on the line, then that meant I had the perfect leverage over him.

Finally, I could break into a smile. Fate was pitying me, I mused, hence the sudden turn of the tables. My smile then faded when I realized that my feet were leading me in circles. For the time being, I decided to clear my mind of anything Yuma-related and whipped out my class schedule.

As I navigated towards my next class, I stopped before the large clock in the lobby. The clock read exactly what I’d feared, making me let out a deep sigh. Half of the period had already passed, lost among the scuffles and skirmishes.

At least, after all that tension, I was starting to see a ray of hope. My last year of high school and all its wonder were still salvageable. Despite all odds, I finally had a fighting chance.

I wasn’t going to give up a normal year at Ryoutei. And if that meant ensnaring the Grizzly, then that was exactly what I would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, if the story were more true to canon, Yuma would have shredded MC to bits by now. But fortunately, this time around, there's real reasons holding him back... some of which we still have yet to explore. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! (We're getting real close to the fun stuff. Hint hint.)


	5. The Troubled Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter in Mukami Yuma's perspective.

“Don’t even think about feasting on her.”

Ruki’s voice dropped as he warned, a bleak reminder of my unpleasant condition. I could only grumble in response, the sandpaper friction in my throat more apparent than ever. I hadn’t been able to get in a proper meal since sunrise, and the signs were definitely there. In spite of that, human bodies filled the spaces of this wretched school, tempting and taunting and _asking_ to be devoured. Yet I could not touch; no, I could only look at their exposed necks, only inhale the scents of warm blood as they passed me. Because of the inane prohibition _that_ person placed upon me, I found myself inconceivably cornered.

Gritting my teeth, I directed my attention away from Ruki’s knowing gaze and towards the rows of doors before us.

“It’s a shame to have to do this,” my companion admitted, “But if you miss another class, we’ll all be in trouble.”

He was referring to the fact that his stare never left mine, watching me like a hawk as I strode to my next class. Although I knew he was telling the truth, a bitter taste lingered in my mouth. As we passed a window, my gaze clung onto the pitch-black horizon and willowy land below. If it weren’t for the being forcefully escorting me to my next class, I would have already been traversing past the greens and into the city for fresh blood.

To make matters worse, a brazen someone clouded my thoughts. The more I recalled her blatant pretentiousness, the more the tightening sensation in my throat grew. In the matter of a day, the woman crashed through my life, instantly wrecking everything in her path. The pest swooped in to rob me of spring; the daffodils I’d promised to plant with _Eve_ were long gone, along with the prosperity those flowers were meant to bring. Instead of greeting the new year with the comforting yellow, the plot in my garden remained barren.

In some ways, the empty soil was a foretelling of the future I would have with Eve.

She would slip out of my fingers before I could even blink. I was always too late, always missing her by a second. This proved to be true yet again, as I’d failed to fulfill her springtime wish. It was something so seemingly trivial, yet the simplest crinkle of her eyes could soothe me and bathe the gardens with warmth. To have forgone that smile to another and utterly missed the chance of a lifetime— _because of a quarrel over Easy Greens—_ was not only a harrowing realization, but a miserable one.

Over the course of the night, her lips locked with ones that were not mine, her heart was signed and sealed for a man who was not me. What bloomed that night was not the comfort of a fulfilled promise, but the feelings she harbored for another. I’d wholly, totally, mortifyingly missed my only chance.

How the night had crumbled before me was no mystery. It was entirely _the pest’s_ fault. That treacherous, selfish, and hateful woman—the one who held me back at the crossroads, and left me lagging behind other contenders. The one who dared to act innocent after sabotaging my efforts in the matter of hours. The one who, with every tilt of the chin and unrelenting scowl, continued to incite resentment within me.

Our first meeting was a cursed one. She had dug a well of misfortune in my chest, planting a flag over it as if to signify victory. Although contempt rushed through my veins and the instinct to crush her very being overwhelmed me, I could not turn back to do so. A prohibition of both violence and feasting on school grounds seemingly manifested itself like a wall, a veil shrouding my opponent. Much to my chagrin, I could not put the woman in her place, lest I face serious consequences.

Quite the pitiful state, right?

If it weren’t for _that person_ giving the orders, I would have already broken every rule in the book. But because it was _him_ , blatant disobedience—especially after the “trouble” I’d created over the past year—was ludicrous even to me. The one who’d given me the special ban happened to be the same person to save me in my darkest moments; to rebel after all he’d done was shameful. Holding back my usual tendencies was my only way of returning his favor and redeeming myself before him.

We stopped before a room on the first floor. Ruki gave me a pat on the back before I slid past the door and into an hour of mandatory torture. As I made my way towards a seat, I could have sworn that I’d heard the pest’s mockery echoing behind me.

* * *

After a napping session during the last class of the day, the bell finally sounded. By now, not only was my throat parched, but my stomach grumbled incessantly. Though getting some shut eye rubbed the leather-skinned professor up the wrong way, it was a necessary distraction from my current state. Being an impure vampire meant that along with the thirst for blood, usual hunger could strike, as well.

I nearly lost myself in a food-filled daydream, until a blinding blond head stopped me before the doorway.

“Yuma.” Kou smiled, an expectant glint in his eye.

“What?”

“I bet you’re hungry… You didn’t even have lunch.”

The corner of my lip twitched. “Yeah, that’s because you assholes didn’t wake me up.”

“Actually, you threatened to throw Azusa down the stairs when he knocked on your door,” Kou revealed, struggling to hold back his laughter, “Your eyes were all red and scary…”

I cleared my throat, _loudly._

If only Kou knew  _why_ I’d had such a sleepless morning. While Eve’s revelation had been a surprise to all, it had particularly rattled me. I’d tossed and turned, hating myself for missing my chance while simultaneously despising how I was so affected by one human girl. Though I never bothered to identify _what_ it was I felt for Eve, I was sure that her being in the arms of another bothered me, and the fact that I was _bothered_ by that bothered me. Simply put, it was a dilemma that had driven me mad.

Of course, I didn’t dare admit this to the cheeky blond. Instead, we dove into banter as we headed towards the rest of the group.

“But Yuma…” Kou eventually whispered, “If you’re hungry, you should complain to Ruki.”

“Complain about what?”

We turned to find the man in question hovering beside us, accompanied by a much tinier figure. Lips flattened, I watched as Eve curled and uncurled her hands, maintaining a close-but-not-too-obviously-close distance between her and her new lover. Her eyes didn’t dare wander up to meet Ruki’s, and yet there was affection for him flooding from her very being.

I hated admitting it, but her obviousness was, simply put, _cute._ Annoyingly yet undeniably so.

The sound of Azusa’s voice brought me back into reality. He pressed me to continue from where we left off earlier that morning, eliciting a smack on the head. My retorts only encouraged the simpleton, and the more volatile my response was, the more the rest of the group erupted into laughter.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?!” I grumbled, rolling my eyes at Kou and Yui’s incessant giggles. Even Ruki broke into a tiny smile, but when he did so, I felt a sense of ease wash over me. Only one good thing had come about after last night’s events: Ruki’s happiness. After always shouldering burdens on his own and looking after us, Ruki had become detached from his own interests. Seeing him glow with genuine ease was a rarity—one that we could only thank Yui for.

As bitter as the feeling was of losing her to someone else, I knew with certainty that I would always put Ruki before myself. We didn’t have the guarantee of blood relations, like the Sakamakis; we had something far greater. The four of us were brothers in our own right, sworn friends until the very end. If I could give up my life for them, then giving up Eve was easily manageable. Besides, the feelings I’d developed over the year were both unwelcome and bothersome; it was better to let the human go and simultaneously bury whatever sensation it was—be it love or possessiveness—that I felt for her.

I broke up the laughter with a proposition. “Let’s eat _yakiniku_ ,” I pressed more than suggested, “For _some reason_ , I’m in the mood to stuff myself with meat.” Usually, Ruki would make us dine in, but my insatiable appetite was more than apparent. A sour tone lined every syllable, and I looked down at Ruki impatiently.

With a nod, the man patted my back firmly. “Fine, since you worked hard today.” Somehow, his words left me feeling like a child being rewarded. Still, I wasn’t going to complain; just the sound of crispy, breaded meat and savory sauce had my stomach in a frenzy.

Unsurprisingly, Kou broke into cheers. He’d been whining about eating out with us for the past week.

 _"O_ _kay_ , you said it first,” he pointed at Ruki, already backing towards the front door, “The meal’s on you!”

* * *

Moonlight illuminated the inky sky above, a draft of chilly air tickling our skin as soon as we departed. Eventually, the empty schoolyard shifted into a mélange of city sights and sounds. Our car was positioned in one of the many spots in the parking tower. This left us with an adequate amount of walking, or as Yui called it, “window shopping”.

Weaving our way through small clusters of people, we eventually stopped before a modest joint. Trails of smoke drifted from the outdoor barbeque, while servers shuffled in and out of the building. Laughter and chatter brimmed over the area, the clinking of silverware and glasses adding to the lively ambience. Mouth salivating, I lunged for the door, slipping inside the eatery.

“And how many will be joining you today, sir?”

The waiter ushered us toward a long table across from the open grill. It was the perfect place to observe the chefs’ quick handiwork, the flames occasionally soaring upwards. A conglomerate of peppery aromas wafted from the grill, making my stomach rumble.

Kou and Ruki were in the middle of some debate when our plates arrived, expertly adorned. In particular, the sizzling beef loin was garnished with an appetizing seasoning, a tiny bowl of sesame-covered sauce nestled just beside the dish. It wasn’t long before I dug in, tugging at the meat with my teeth. The delectable spices penetrated through the loin, while the crispy edges added a touch of the familiar, charcoaled taste.

Minutes later, the barbequed meat had evaporated into thin air. Groaning in delight, I licked my lips and bent over to grab another serving, only to realize that the plate was totally empty. The rest of the group munched languidly, amused by my ravenous behavior.

“Another set here!” I called out to the chefs before Ruki could protest. “Drinks, too!”

Crossing his arms, the man in charge of paying for tonight directed a sigh towards me. “You’re acting like you haven’t been fed in years.” Well, not having an ounce of blood in your system since the day before could do that to you.

“Makes me feel bad for you.” Ruki scratched the back of his head as I guzzled down the last of my soda. Sweet and acidic, the drink momentarily satiated the impatience growing within me. Food was the only way I could distract myself from jumping on a passerby and filling my stomach with what it was now meant for.

Craning my neck towards the open grill, I leaned back against the seat and tapped my chopsticks against the table.

Seeing my condition, Yui swallowed her food to inquire, “I’ve been wondering this for some time but… Why is Yuma being punished this strictly?”

We all turned to blink at her.

“Don’t you remember last year?” Kou remarked, his features widening in surprise, “This guy missed almost every class!”

“Oi.” I narrowed my eyes at the blond.

Nodding slowly, Azusa chimed, “He nearly got expelled… if it weren’t for _that person._ ”

 _“Oi.”_ I repeated, setting down my chopsticks.

“The headmaster was furious. That person had to do everything to make sure Yuma wouldn’t embarrass himself again.”

Upon Ruki’s frank addition, I slammed my fist down. “Oi, give me a break!”

A waiter, who was hovering inches beside me, hurriedly placed the fresh set of meat onto the table. With a stuttered apology, he shuffled back into the kitchen as quickly as he’d arrived. Even if I wanted to assure the waiter it wasn’t his fault, I couldn’t; he’d set a new record on the fastest food service in Japan.

I let out a sigh. Everything they had said was right. I found school to be a nuisance, the headmaster found me to be a nuisance, and now I was stuck with a bunch of rules I’d never anticipated.

Yui folded her lips against her chopsticks, avoiding pressing further. On the other hand, Kou slid a steaming plate towards me, tilting his head to flash a signature beam. I was more nettled than actually angry, and knowing this, the blond easily won me over with food.

“Truthfully, something’s on your mind, right?” he presumed, rapping his fingertips against his cheek. As usual, his intuition was abnormally accurate.

I gulped down another bite. “A flea’s been bothering me all day,” I admitted, prodding at the side dishes, “A pesky, noisy flea.”

_That, and…_

My gaze wandered towards Eve, who was busy fixing some loose strands of hair on Ruki’s head.

“Flea?” Azusa repeated, blinking up at me. I simply nodded.

“Something like that.”

An image of the pest’s unwavering scowl flashed through my mind. While she stood half my size, she was insolent enough to counter my every move. Just who did the woman think she was, ramming into my life like that? No human ever dared to maintain eye contact for longer than a millisecond, yet here she was, effortlessly invading my thoughts.

Before I knew it, my blood was boiling again. With a clenched jaw, I gripped my glass until the veins near my knuckles began to protrude.  

Setting his own cup down, Ruki let out a deep breath. A knowing look entered his eyes when he uttered, “Fleas are best left alone. The more you interfere, the more they retaliate.” Whether he was referring to actual insects or whom I was really thinking of was a mystery to me.

Nevertheless, his advice momentarily relaxed my nerves. The more I dwelled on the matter, the worse my own condition became. I decided that for tonight, it would just be best to catch some easy prey and rest early. By tomorrow, I could return to working on a plan to endure the rest of the year.

When it came to the pest, confrontation was a failed effort; there was no use if I couldn’t use my strength against her. Besides, she was one of those loudmouthed, spoiled brats who churned authority in their favor—much like a certain group of vampires. She could have easily been drafting a complaint to the head of the school that moment.

The only way to get rid of this grudge was to do so with tact. Discretion wasn’t my strongest point, but I knew enough not to provoke her during school hours. I’d have to “play nice”, just until the prohibition was lifted. Then, I could drain the life out of her if I wished.

If worse came to worst, I could always roughhouse after school hours. No where in the ban did Karlheinz state that “acting out” was impermissible off school grounds. It was a tiny loophole in the system, a chance to get back at a very pesky insect and stop her from trying to pull any tricks.

After all, if I _was_ going to be subjected to strict prohibitions, I had to do it _my_ way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one! I've been rewriting and editing this chapter until I was finally somewhat satisfied with how it turned out. For some time, I was really worried about the quality of my writing—but your support is encouraging me! I really hope you guys are enjoying it. (There's still a lot to explain concerning the content of this chapter, but we'll get to that... in time.) 
> 
> Also, a heads-up: this fic will be updated weekly! (If you haven't already, you can also check out my work at 'peachmused' on tumblr.)


	6. Ignorance Is Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when he isn't there, he refuses to leave her [thoughts].

To my shock, the school day progressed rather uneventfully. It became a habit to turn my back in and on my way to each class to make sure _he_ wasn’t approaching me, but there was no use. The Grizzly was out of sight, even as I strolled home.

For the umpteenth time, my eyes dropped down to my wrist. Violent behavior was inexcusable. I had every right to start a ruckus and have the head of the board involved. In fact, I should have told my grandfather right there and then, constructing a plan to have my adversary expelled. Still, the boy’s words—though laughable—resonated through my mind.

**“Acting like you’re all high and mighty… Using your so-called ‘influence’... I hate girls like you the most.”**

I halted in my tracks. An evening zephyr rustled the ends of my hair as I looked towards the sky.

If it was Ran in my place, would she have been able to twist the situation in her favor so quickly? A student without any connections or wealth to tie them to the school, would they have been able to be as fearless as I?

Perhaps his feelings of hatred were justified. With the right case, I could easily get my peers thrown out of the school. In contrast, scholarship students would have to face the challenges head-on, as the upper crust was notorious for not taking them seriously. Whereas other students could not, I was given the blessing of being able to move forward and do as I’d wished. The same obstacles were twice as heavy on their shoulders… yet I’d never stopped to think about it until after he’d spat those bitter words.

Only moments later, I shook my head frantically. Yuma was another case altogether. He was a _bully_ , someone who used his strength to oppress others. While he despised the manipulation of others through one’s status or connections, his disposition was heavily ironic. He, himself, was a manipulator; the only difference was that while some utilized coin or relations, he used his brawns. Thus, I was justified in thwarting him through “easier” means.

It only made sense to rat him out.

And yet, a part of me yearned to prove him wrong. To battle him head-on, without getting higher-ups involved. To show him that I _wasn’t_ a privileged crybaby, and that I could still silence him with my own power. My pride was at stake, and I vowed to do everything to preserve it.

My grandparents’ warm welcomes assured me that I was safe for the next few hours. Despite it being late at night, they were up and talkative, detailing the events that had occurred while I was gone. I knew in an instant from the bags under my grandmother’s eyes that they’d waited for me.

“Here, eat more; you’ve been busy working all day!”

“How was your first day? Grandma prepared this just for you.”

Having someone look forward to my arrival was a complete first for me. Maybe it was that fact, or the result of a very frustrating first day, that made my chest ache. When tears welled up in my eyes, I hurriedly brushed them away with my sleeve—quick enough for my grandparents’ not to notice.

It took every last bit of energy to hold back a gush of sobs; I inwardly admonished myself for my immaturity, and took the first opportunity to leave the room and wash up for bed.

Ice cold water rinsed away the tears, and a face mask momentarily veiled the stresses of the day. If only my grandparents were aware of just how much had happened over the past few days.

The moment I’d crashed onto my comforter, my eyes fluttered shut. Exhaustion gradually rose from my shoulders as the world around me became a nest of darkness. For once that night, the despicable face of Mukami Yuma disappeared into the crevices of my mind, the promise of sweet dreams replacing the tartness of our meeting. I eventually fell asleep, unsuspecting of the hard labor that was to come.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of my grandfather’s voice, urging me to get dressed for work. My alarms hadn’t yet gone off; rather, my phone read an unfortunate 8:00 a.m.—an hour earlier than expected. Before I knew it, my limbs began moving towards the bathroom, splashes of icy water forcing my eyes to open past one centimeter. When I turned to change into my usual wear, I caught sight of a salmon-colored kimono with white accents.

I recognized the fabric as the same ones the servers at Kanna were wearing. Why the uniform was draped across my bed was still a mystery.

“Grandpa, what’s this for?” I ultimately inquired, lifting the smooth material in my hands. His face lit up at the sight of it, and he quickly explained that I would be doing some “hands-on” work today. Confusion lined my forehead, but before I could question further, I was hastened back into my room.

Deciding not to argue, I slipped into the fabric. After struggling with tying the kimono, I eventually left the finishing touches to Grandma (a self-proclaimed expert in the area). She whirled me around to show the final product, and I found myself staring at my reflection in awe.

With parted lips, I analyzed the fitted attire from multiple directions. Even with minimal makeup and a simple do, I appeared more elegant than usual. It was definitely because of my grandmother’s magic handiwork that I was able to look like an actual worker at the inn, and not some clown amongst the crowd.

“You look beautiful!” she affirmed, beaming at me.

A rush of color entered my cheeks. “That’s only because of your expertise, Grandma.”

“Is it alright if I steal our granddaughter for a bit?”

We turned to look at Grandpa, who was waiting patiently by the door.

Taking this as my cue to depart, I grabbed my things and followed him outside. Though the inn wasn’t too far from home, Grandpa decided that driving there would be best, considering my current attire. On the way there, I forgot to ask _why_ I was dressed in such a manner. Instead, the harmonies of retro singers and my Grandpa’s humming kept me distracted.

Soon enough, I was lead into the homely establishment. I got a few compliments on my way in, which only heightened my self-consciousness. I click-clacked behind Grandpa, my eyebrow raising as we passed the management office.

“Um, Grandpa,” I began, tapping him on the shoulder, “We just passed by the office.”

We stopped in our tracks. He turned to explain that today, I would be working as a _server_ , not an overseer. Instinctively, I found myself against the idea—after all, I was here to study management, not physical labor.

As if reading my thoughts, my grandfather placed his hand on my shoulder and assured me to trust his decision. Managing starts with familiarizing yourself with the work of those you’re overseeing, he explained. Without experiencing life in the inn, how was I to make the right decisions for the business?

After hearing him out, the reluctance slowly receded. Rather than being a detached director, he wanted me to become someone who understood the establishment from inside and out. It only made sense that through serving guests, I would gain a broader, more valuable perspective.

My management studies would, of course, continue. I was to work as a server only thrice a week, which was more than enough time to acclimate myself to my surroundings.

All in all, I put my faith in his suggestion. Once he was sure of that, he handed me off to Watanabe Junko, the chief of staff. With an unbending back and sprucely folded hands, the middle-aged woman wore an unreadable expression, her eyes glued to me. We stood in silence for a minute after Grandpa left us, before I shifted under her gaze.

“Uh, nice to meet you.” I finally uttered, bowing deeply. Upon introducing myself, the woman crisply stated that yes, she was already aware of who I was. I was certain she was slicing me into pieces with her unrelenting stare, until her features relaxed into a smile.

“Good manners… a nice start.”

I was left bewildered as she guided me to the outside hall, handing me a rag and pail. Since it was my first day, they wouldn’t bombard me with directly serving the guests. Instead, my job was to scrub the floors of the long porches, then shadow and assist experienced workers.

Junko was alarmingly complaisant, a stark contrast from the perception I had of her. She didn’t expect my work to be perfect, and reassured me that as long as I didn’t end up offending any of the guests, I would be doing just fine. 

As expected of me, I went right to work. I placed my sandals to the side, curled up my sleeves, and drenched the rag in the water. Racing down the wooden planks on all fours was, to the say the least, unanticipated. But despite the eventual soreness that entered my arms, zipping down the porches was a welcome distraction from my troubles. Even acting as a messenger between the kitchen and the countless servers left me with an extra bounce in my step.

For now, I’d forgotten all about the quarrelsome grizzly bear. That in itself was enough to transform the labor into a gift, an unlikely miracle amongst all the chaos.

By three, I neared the end of my shift, but felt inclined to join the others for a lunch break. We formed a circle in the break room, seated around a table on the floor. Junko had ordered in and was now hovering over the delivery men as they placed lunch sets before us. We thanked her for the meal in unison, digging in when appropriate.

Just as I dug into the rolled egg and broiled salmon, I was swamped with questions. Questions about my parents, about how long I’d intern here, about my age, about my school life. I hurriedly swallowed down the bits of food in my mouth, and explained each and every detail. Well, minus the lousy bits.

Their excitement came as quite the surprise; never before had anyone been so curious about me. It was heartwarming to feel like I mattered somewhere, that I was being taken in with open arms. The servers knew each other in great detail, treating their co-workers like family. To think that I was now joining that snug atmosphere… I couldn’t contain my joy.

 _If I were to continue working here, it wouldn’t be bad at all_ , I reflected. Even if Ryoutei besieged me with hardships, I knew that I could always return to a place of compassion and understanding.

Kanna Inn.

_My new sanctuary._

* * *

Alas, the solace did not linger for long.

The walk to school was soiled by the idea of having to face _him_ again. Even the spring blooms could not divert my attention from the brusque brunet.

Clouds wafted through the darkening sky, a reminder to pick up the pace. The bag draped over my shoulder carried the assignments I’d managed to finish after returning home from work, along with the burdensome memory of using the satchel as an excuse to avoid a sworn enemy.

Lest I returned to that pathetic, cowardly state, I would have to make my next moves as wisely as possible. Avoiding the problem was not an answer. Rather, I needed to use the leverage I had against him to the best of my ability, enough to make him back off.

Fixing the ends of my hair, I squared my shoulders, and nodded to myself. He couldn’t bother me anymore. I would be all right. Everything was going to be fine.

“Good _morning!_ ” a sing-songy voice belted, making me tilt my head towards the sound. It was none other than Ran, sporting a million-dollar smile and waved hair bunches.  

I returned the greeting with one of my own. “You look good,” I remarked. This was exactly what she wanted to hear, as she broke into a fit of giggles.

“I really tried!” she admitted, “I’m trying to land a boyfriend.”

Blinking hard, I had a moment of pause. “Aren’t you sixteen?”

“Yeah, but the guys in our class aren’t all that bad. I thought they’d be pretentious, but they’re actually kind of nice!” Ran clasped her hands together, cheeks rosy with life. “And the seniors are even cooler!”

_If only she knew what I had to deal with on my first day…_

“It’s all a lie,” I stated candidly. There was no way to soften the blow; although Yuma was one bad apple, that didn’t mean that the other guys here were any better. If people as put-together as Ruki or as dazzling as Kou associated themselves with the brute, then I was sure that every man in Ryoutei would be a disappointment.

Ran, however, hadn’t expected me to put a damper on her search for love. Her lips scrunched into a pout, and her hands lowered in distraught.

I was unrelenting. “Boys are all the same. They’re just wild animals waiting to come out!”

An image of a roaring Grizzly clouded my mind, and I waved it away in a frenzy. I probably seemed mad to the girl walking beside me, but it was what I had to do to prevent Yuma from overcrowding my brain… _again._

Her crestfallen expression said it all—I’d crushed her hopes about landing a high school sweetheart. I was only half-regretting it.

“Ahem. So, Ran, you live near here?”

Directing the conversation elsewhere momentarily eased my senses. Our discussion became a lengthy one; I dove into a rant of how my Literature teacher assigned three chapters already, and Ran offered both consolation and advice. When I asked about her first day, it was obvious that she’d landed the _crème de la crème_ of professors. I was happy that she was content with her classes, but volunteered to tutor her nonetheless. Once the chatter deviated into makeup, fashion trends, and a viral video, the word “boy” was a thing of the past.

“Ah, my class is this way,” she informed, just as we stepped onto the second floor.

I let out a small sigh, but quickly hid it with a smile. “Right. See you later, then!”

As soon as her bubbly form was no longer visible, my lips drooped. Every passing second was one lined with tension. I looked over my shoulder, nearly flinching any time a bob of brown hair passed mine.

Clearing my throat, I slapped my cheeks lightly—a silent warning to come back to my senses.

_You have the ammunition you need. If he even tries to touch you, just shoot._

That was what I reassured myself, over, and over, and over, and over again. But memories were a powerful thing; the burning sensation of my wrists threatened to return, the recollection of his brute force replaying in my mind.

Even though I had what I needed to defend myself, the effect which he had on me still left me wary. I tried my best to conceal the feeling, tilting my chin upwards as I marched to class.

Lo and behold, once I turned the corner, a giant figure made itself apparent. There he was: back arched against the window across the hall, one hand in his pocket and the other browsing through his phone. He leaned back, slipping fingers through his disheveled fringe.

As he did so, _I_ did what every normal person would do. Freeze in place, hold my breath, and hope my uniform blended in with the walls.

And, of course, _be subsequently given the cold shoulder._

When his honey orbs travelled to meet mine, they merely slid back to the device in his hand. Rather than holding a staring contest, Yuma found his phone to be a much more interesting pastime.

I released my breath with a shudder, baffled and almost… frustrated.

Why, after all the hours he’d spent racking my brain, was he not giving me an ounce of acknowledgement? After the torment he’d put me through… why was he totally, wholly ignoring me?

With cautious steps, I turned to slip inside the classroom, only to _not_ be dragged back out. Instead, I found my place effortlessly, dropping my things down as people chattered away. Some talked about the weather, some about the homework. Some even chased each other around the room, teasing and joking away.

It was peaceful.

Gallingly so.

Rather than finding ease in the regularity of it all, why was my chest wringing? Why, when I should be celebrating, was heat rising up my neck? Why was it hard to swallow, and why couldn’t I tear my eyes away from my desk?

What was wrong with me today?

Yuma’s uncharacteristic actions should have been a relief. Yet here I was, let down by a confrontation that never happened. The very same confrontation I’d been agonizing over and avoiding all day.

Not having to face him at all was, to any ordinary person, a miracle. But the shoulders I once held highly now felt heavier, an unwelcome development. I hadn’t realized at the time, but I was a woman of immense pride; his backing out meant that I’d only wasted the past hours brooding over someone as detestable as him.

If the boy had already moved past the incident… then what did that leave me with?

A wounded pride. That, _and_ the humiliating realization that I was nothing more than a _flea_ to him. An insect, one that buzzes and whizzes away by itself. One that’s easily forgotten, even after having struggled with it for a night.

My conjecture was only proven when clunky steps neared my seat, and coolly stopped before their own desk. I braced for a tap on the shoulder, a kick on the back—anything to refute my assumptions. Instead, the class unfolded as it should, boredom instead of bickering being the highlight of the lecture.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. With the way things were now, I didn’t have the chance to prove myself. To clear up the presumption that I was just another, filthy rich snob, one who ridiculed others from atop an imaginary perch. Likewise, I needed to make it clear that I—unlike him—was not a manipulator. I refused to do what he expected of me, lest I become another version of the Grizzly.

Be that as it may, I was at a momentary loss as to how to move forward. His giving up so easily meant there was nothing more for me to do, nothing more to show.

Without saying a word, Yuma had single-handedly plummeted my ego to the ground. If this was all part of his plan, then regrettably, it was working.

I grappled against jumbled emotions, some of uncertainty, some of chagrin. Dissatisfaction grew with each tick of the clock. Notes became scribbles, which then turned into aimless tapping. I bit down the urge to twist back behind me and hurl a fist at the boy’s forehead.

 _Why throw a big fit over our quarrel at the grocer’s,_ I wondered, _then ignore me days after?_

Whether he was looking at my slumped back or not, I could not tell. Whether or not his thoughts were plagued by the sight of me—just as mine were of him—I had no clue. A part of me hoped I was gnawing at the back of his mind. But with the comfortable silence emanating from behind me, I was becoming convinced that he was just as unconcerned as he sounded. Just the realization left my blood boiling, the wheels in my mind turning.

Whatever the truth was, I refused to turn back and search in those overbearing, coppery eyes for answers.

The fact of the matter was simple: knowingly or not, he’d wounded my pride. And if Yuma was going to act as if he hadn’t been harassing me all of yesterday, I could not idly stand by to watch.

The initial shock had frazzled my nerves, but as the hour passed, my shrewdness began to resurface.

Unlike his usual mannerisms, Yuma was playing with intricacy. But Grizzly’s weren’t built for intricacy. They were hot-blooded creatures, far more brash  yet simpleminded than they let on. Not only had I overheard some interesting information about Yuma’s studentship, I had the brains to utilize it well. It was only a matter of time before I had him spun around my finger… _through my own efforts._

The bell sounded, a cue for students to flood out of the lecture room. Leisurely, Yuma rose from his seat and departed as well. All the while, my vengeful stare never left his tangled mop of hair. My fingers crumpled the edges of my notebook, and I slowly got to my feet.

 _That’s right, don’t get discouraged._ I reassured myself, breathing out once his form finally disappeared beyond the halls. _He may have hurt you for a moment… But don’t forget, you are the next-in-line of Kanna Inn, a future businesswoman. The cards are still in your hands._

Play them right, and I would be able to shut him up for good. I’d wait for the perfect opportunity to strike, and finish this once and for all. Perhaps then my days at Ryoutei would return to what they should have been all along: exciting, fulfilling, and bright. Anything far from what I was enduring now.

As for now, I’d have to race to my next class, and hope that I’d take better notes than the inky disaster in my hands.

* * *

“This is a reminder that club sign-ups will take place during the free period. Please head to the schoolyard for the club forms and information desks.”

One week later, a fateful announcement sounded throughout the school’s PA system. Seven days had passed without any disruptions. Yuma continued to brush by me without a word, but now, I’d accustomed myself to it. We returned to being strangers, only interacting to pass papers down the row.

And while revenge was always at the back of my mind, I was so preoccupied with school and work that his lack of presence was, frankly, a relief. He’d been oddly quiet these days; there were no incidents involving him, despite the rumors that flew about during my first week. I’d become convinced he was now merely a shell of a person, a fake walking about the halls.

Because of his uncharacteristic display, I managed to somewhat salvage my reputation; since people noticed I was no longer hanging around the delinquent, I became more approachable. A few friends were made along the way, but none became as special as a certain junior and the girls back at Kanna Inn.

Overall, my life was settling from unpredictable to mundane. Things started to look up only recently, when we were informed that we would start attending our elective classes today. I’d chosen to take up Marketing and Home Economics, one for the professional aspect, and one for the heck of it. Shockingly, Home Economics was one of the more popular classes; the seats filled out within hours. I’d yet to figure out why, but I had a feeling it might have had to do with the free food.

Nevertheless, the electives I’d chosen seemed to click with me, and I was looking forward to something other than analyzing _Romeo and Juliet,_ Newton’s Laws, and why Yuma was now as cold as my sink water.

The Club Sign-Up was another thing to look forward to. I didn’t particularly want to join any clubs, as they ran earlier than school hours, but it would be fun to walk between the stands and see what Ryoutei had to offer. From Fashion Design to The-Do-Nothing Club, I’d seen some pretty unique listings earlier. If my hunch was correct, then the stands for these clubs would be just as, if not even more, entertaining.

A familiar bell chimed, snapping me from my thoughts. I joined the mob of students pouring out of the classroom and into the schoolyard, my head occasionally bobbing above the crowd in search of a friend. Soon enough, Ran joined my side, her restlessness apparent.

We wove our way out of the cluster and towards the very back of the expanse, where fewer students lingered around each desk. The first to catch Ran’s eye was Journalism Club, which showcased their best work and cameras. Without much choice but little qualms, I was dragged along to each stand. Each club quickly learned that Ran’s chatter and questions were like a sweetly-decorated Pandora’s Box: enticing, but once opened,  _endless._

“You know, I’ve always wanted to play football. I don’t know much about it, but I like kicking. But then again, the uniforms might not be warm enough for winter. Do you play in winter? Or do you have different uniforms when it gets cold? Oh—did you paint that football yourself?”

Giggling at her enthusiasm, I remained to the side as we drifted to and from each presentation.

“Hey… why does it feel like I’m the only one talking?” she finally questioned, placing a gentle hand on my forearm, “Don’t you want to join a club?”

I chewed on my lip for a moment. While I didn’t want to burst her enthusiasm, it was only right for me to tell the truth. “Honestly? I... don’t really think it’s worth it.”

The look on her face made me quickly add, “For me, at least! I don’t think clubs are going to help me career-wise, so...” When her downcast expression persisted, I zipped my mouth shut, wondering if bringing her the painted football would raise her spirits.

Her next words took me by surprise. “I get what you mean but… won’t you regret it?”

With parted lips, I could only stare right back at her. _Was she getting philosophical on me?_

“I know I would. High school is all about experiencing what you can, and not joining a club means you’d be passing up those precious memories,” she pointed out, “But of course, it’s up to you! I know you have big dreams of becoming a manager, and I don’t want you to be more stressed than you have to be...”

Features relaxing, I broke into a soft smile. “Ran…”

She really _was_ considerate. I wanted to give her a big squeeze and thank her for her kind words right there and then, but our moment was abruptly interrupted.

“—I’m sorry, did someone say management?”

The two of us turned to meet the gaze of a well-built, young man, his dark hair sticking up characteristically. Though he was near our height (which was, frankly, not very tall), the stranger sported toned muscles and a fitted maroon jersey.

 _Talk about an eavesdropper._ To be fair, we _were_ positioned just beside a stand with the sign, “Varsity Volleyball”, and four students clad in jerseys and shorts.

“We’re actually looking for a manager for the Boys’ Varsity team!” he grinned, nearly blinding me with his pearly whites. “If you’re interested—”

Before I could retort, Ran raised my arm, and exclaimed, “Yep, she’ll do it! She’s great at management.” Seconds later, I swiveled my head towards the girl, aghast and in need of an explanation.

“Oh—well, perfect, thank you!” the muscular boy broke into another smile, and I inwardly cursed him for his classic boy-next-door appearance. It was hard to reject him upfront when he grinned at me with such high hopes. His friendly demeanor, paired with Ran’s insistence, left me with no choice but to accept the form he’d presented.

“Just fill out the application,” he explained, drawing near me to point at certain parts of the form, “And make sure to sign here and here. You can also e-mail it, but just be sure to send it in by Friday.”

Both his and Ran’s expectant gazes followed my every move, so much so that I had to turn away to breathe. Obviously, Ran was convinced that this club was _made_ for me. She went on about how talented I was, nudging me ever so often. In the meanwhile, the boy explained that if I was chosen to be their manager, it would only be an hour a day—just before school started.

When I could feel the team members’ eyes fixed upon me, I couldn’t help but think that they were all so expectant for a reason. I concluded that the Boys’ Volleyball Team wasn’t as popular as they would have liked. After all, there weren’t many trophies displayed on the table, and the picture of the “winning team” was of one from the '90s. Certainly not the best first impression.

Guilt-ridden, I could not tear myself away from the silent desperation in their eyes. My instincts overtook me, moving the pencil over the form against my will. My brain screamed against the idea _,_ but my heart had already made other plans.

Inwardly, I yearned to help turn this ragtag group into an efficient lineup, or at least one that left the school better than they’d arrived. There was a secret, undeniable pleasure at the thought of working out their schedules and raising funds. And, as Ran whispered, I’d also get to enjoy a bunch of eye candy throughout the school year.

Not a bad exchange.

Thus, I dove headfirst into a new challenge. The forms were all filled out within minutes, despite my initial doubts. The moment I’d turned the application in, a wave of regret piled upon me; was I really going to be able to handle all of this? It was my last year, yet here I was, piling myself with new undertakings.

In contrast, Ran was over the moon, elated by my decision. Her optimism was contagious; I found myself temporarily sweeping my concerns under the rug.

_Being a club manager could be useful for my future endeavors._

With that justification in mind, I followed my companion to the next stall.

Ran’s reassurance never ended, even as she signed up for a spot in the brass band club. I found comfort in her childlike elation, enough to convince myself I’d made the right choice.

* * *

Two classes later, yawns and stretches replaced the jokes and laughter from my break period. I had almost been a victim to boredom, until the realization that all that was left was my elective classes dawned upon me. Electives alternated throughout the week, and today, I was going to learn all about Home Economics.

The few bodies seated in the classroom made me acutely aware of the fact that I was early. In any case, I found a spot among the many long tables, presumably for cooking, sewing, and the like. Nestled comfortably in my seat, I scrolled through my phone, unaware of the fact that someone else had joined me at the table.

Only moments later, a rush of students filled the classroom. What was once quiet became a mass of frenzied whispers and giggles, and the occasional snap of a mobile camera.

I finally looked up from my device to find every chair filled by students, a majority of which were twittering girls. They pointed in my direction, and it didn’t take long for me to realize _who_ they were admiring.

Top star Mukami Kou lounged in the chair beside me, arms folded behind his head. I could have sworn that when he smiled at me, a blinding light surrounded him like a halo.

“Hello, again,” he acknowledged, prompting me to return the greeting.

Shutting my phone off, I cleared my throat, and straightened myself out. _So he was the reason for the class’s popularity._

“I… didn’t know you liked Home Ec,” I began, struggling to erase the image of a popular idol sewing heart-shaped pillows.

Kou replied coolly, “Free food and an easy A? What’s not to like?”

Well, that was one way to put it. But why, of all people, did the celebrity have to sit beside _me?_ I wasn’t appreciative of the thought of being distracted by his sparkly presence instead of thoroughly enjoying class. But who was to know, maybe the starstruck feelings would fade after working with him.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, another figure joined us. A dainty blonde greeted Kou casually, stopping before the table. My jaw unhinged at the sight of the familiar face: _Yuma’s girlfriend._

The very person I’d hoped I _wouldn’t_ run into. As usual, she radiated kindness, carrying a natural charm that had me avoiding her gaze. However much I tried to hide my face, it wasn’t long before her soft gaze landed on me.

“Oh—hello there!” she leaned towards me in recognition, “We meet again!”

Gingerly, I lowered the phone obscuring a fourth of my face, and nodded slowly. “Ah… from the store, right?” I laughed forcedly. “Nice to meet you…”

After introducing myself, she complimented my name and revealed herself to be Komori Yui, from the other class.

_Even her name is pretty…_

The girl placed her things beside my seat, settling into the chair as she continued. “I’m sorry for Yuma’s behavior the other day. Really, he’s not always like that. I don’t know what got into him...”

Thankfully, when Yui apologized on Yuma’s behalf, she left out the part where I looked like a wild raccoon wrestling against him. I shook my head, reassuring her that I’d forgotten all about the incident. (That, of course, was the biggest lie of the century.) I also took the time to repeatedly apologize for my appearance that night.

Meanwhile, Kou bent over to raise a brow at the blonde. “What’s this? Something happened with Yuma and I haven’t heard about it?” His catlike grin was enough to convince me he would use our little run-in to blackmail Yuma sometime. I’d definitely have to be on my toes with this Cheshire.

I hastily directed the conversation elsewhere. “Uh, Yuma…” I started, clasping my fingers together, “Are you friends of his?” Though I hated having to be reminded of the brute again, it was imperative that I get some background on my enemy.

Yui was the first to confirm my presumptions. She explained that she’d only met him last year, while Kou had known him for a long, _long_ time. Childhood friends, it seemed. They were like brothers, and never strayed far from one another.

“Well, there’s four of us,” Kou interjected, “Four Mukamis.”

 _Four?!_ I marvelled at the very idea, unable to register the fact that Yuma was related to the boys I’d met days prior.

As if reading my mind, he quickly added, “Adopted brothers.”

A huge sigh of relief left me at the clarification. At least now I could rest assured that Yuma’s tendencies were not genetically shared.

_Yuma, Kou, and Ruki… But, who was the last?_

I didn’t get a chance to ask, as the teacher announced her presence as she strolled into class. We turned away from one another and lay our attention on her instead. Well, except Kou, who was fully absorbed in his phone screen.

Curiosity never once left me, even as I listened to the professor’s life story. After a week of giving and receiving the cold shoulder, I had finally heard something about the infamous Mukami Yuma. A part of me began to wonder what he was up to at this very moment, what electives he’d taken, and if he’d joined any clubs. Although I liked to believe I was only curious because of my plot for revenge, it was mortifying when I looked down to find Yuma’s name accidentally scribbled instead of “Yale”.

 _Stay out of my head,_ I commanded, vigorously erasing the markings, _or it’s not going to end prettily._

Unfortunately, this would _not_ be the last time his face would cross my mind.

No, this was merely the _beginning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy! Everything's been set in place for the next chapter, which will definitely be a ride for these two! I have so much planned, and I'm glad that it's finally starting to play out. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your support so far, it makes me motivated to keep writing. :-) (Also: I'll be posting some fic-related content on my tumblr soon!)


	7. Returning the Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Grizzly's bite hurts. But a girl's wrath is worse.

Friday. Life at the inn was going rather smoothly; there hadn’t been any major incidents involving me, I’d been punctual, and I’d even memorized the names of all the current guests. Of course, minor mix-ups and miscalculations were bound to happen. But I had finally begun to find my place among the crowd. And although passing by the Daffodil room was unpleasant, overall, I was enjoying my time at work.

Over the course of the week, some easily-overlooked events unfolded, as well. For one thing, Yui and I were now in each other’s contacts. All I can say is that Yui was one persistent girl, and now her messages were sitting unread on my phone. (I was still debating whether or not to text He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s girlfriend back.)

As for Volleyball club, I am proud to say that yes, I did, in fact, get accepted. As the new manager for the team, I was expected to arrive to the first club meeting on Friday. This, and other general duties were detailed in an email from the team’s coach, a man whom I’d yet to meet. Apparently, he was a star player back in the day, and returned to the school to offer his skills for the next generation. Much like how I expected to put my management experience to good use.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins, surprising even myself. It wasn’t as if I had been accepted into a prestigious, selective program, and yet, there was an undeniable bounce in my step. I guess I should have known that my workaholic tendencies would have flipped this situation around, making it almost _exciting._

Perhaps this was also due to the hype Ran provided, but the fact remained the same: I was skipping my way to school, one hour earlier than usual.

Even the weather seemed to complement my mood; gentle gusts of wind seemed to lift the walkways, along with the neighborhood’s spirits. The sun shone brilliantly, basking me in all its golden glory.

My leather bag felt a little lighter as I readjusted the straps, striding beyond the silvery gates in comfortable silence.

The gymnasium was massive. As in a whopping, endless stretch of smooth flooring. Rows of benches bordered either side of the expanse, the smell of citrus and rubber filling the air.

I leaned back, tilting my head upwards to take in the large structures hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t my first time being a gymnasium, but this was the first time I’d stepped into one that _wasn’t_ giving me dodgeball nightmares.

Fortunately, I was not alone in the sea of space; there were bodies scattered throughout the gym, some practicing and some chatting off to the side, but all in uniform. I’d have to get used to their maroon jerseys, as I’d be seeing them quite a lot after that day.

“Congratulations!”

The volleyball player from yesterday approached me, lips pulled back in a boyish grin. We bowed slightly in greeting, with him introducing himself as Nakamura Daichi. Supposedly, he was a fellow senior and was taking Physics with me (which had only occurred to me the day after we met). He was ecstatic at my decision, stating that the queue for the position was unpopular compared to the basketball and football clubs (both of which were leading teams that had won many awards).

He went on to explain that the club was in sore need of new players, ones that could thrust the lineup back into the spotlight. Fortunately, things were starting to look up; this year, they gained not only a manager, but two new players with great potential.

I wanted to ask who they were, but decided against it. After all, practice was starting soon, and I’d be seeing them then.

Daichi escorted me to the storage area towards the back of the gym. My job was to take note of the equipment and set everything up before practice began. I would also be in charge of new recruitments, budget planning, and event scouring–anything to boost the team’s performance. But the latter part of my tasks would come later; for now, I was going to get a feel of the sport by watching the match and help out when needed.

I was in the middle of hauling a pack of water bottles from the storage to the steps, when the gym doors swung open across from me. Peeking upwards, I immediately lurched back in recognition. I nearly dropped the pack in my hands as a hefty brunet, clad in the maroon uniform, infiltrated my safe zone.

His eyes widened, possibly farther than mine, as he plodded into the gymnasium. Setting the water bottles down, I whipped around to face the Grizzly once more. This was the last place I expected to see someone as aloof as him, and yet, _here he was_. At this point, his joining the same club as me almost seemed deliberate.

Immediately after, I recalled how he’d avoided me for a week and then some, and the notion vanished into thin air. An indignant glare tainted my features, his very presence a mortifying reminder of how much he’d clouded my thoughts since my first day here. I’d never felt more inclined to strangle anyone in my life than I did at that moment.

However, I didn’t resort to violence just yet.

Rather, I furrowed my brows, and pointed an accusing finger at the Grizzly.

“What is _he_ doing here?!” I shouted. Unfortunately, Yuma was just as confused, and demanded an explanation almost simultaneously. The resulting clamor silenced the gymnasium, all bodies stopping to watch the spectacle.

After what seemed ages, we were caught in another staring competition. Oddly enough, a part of me was relieved to see he hadn’t totally ruled out my presence. For once, he actually seemed to be on the same page as me.

“Won’t you get out?” I pressed, motioning fervently to the doors. Instead of disappearing, Yuma broke into a scoff. He glared at me with the same, unfeeling eyes—ones that I only snarled back at.

 **“Shut it, pipsqueak,”** the man barked, **“I should be the one saying that!”**

His words went through one ear and out the other.

With folded arms, I found myself scoffing, as well. “So what, now you’re into volleyball? I didn’t think you were a team player.”

**“That’s it… You’re dead!”**

“Oh, really?!”

We stomped over to one another, on the verge of tearing each other’s throats apart. A heavy storm brewed as we fought, dark clouds hanging over us like an impenetrable barrier. It was only by a miracle that the friction between us was momentarily disrupted; Daichi somehow tore us apart, visage lined with fatigue.

“Guys, calm down!” he urged, shaking his head. By the time we were finally split apart, the entire team had crowded around us.

I bit my lip, color filling my cheeks. This wasn’t the first time I’d embarrassed myself because of Yuma, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier.

Daichi released a deep breath. “As much as we’d love to have new club members, I can’t accept people who are unwilling to work together, as a team.”

We shifted uncomfortably under his firm words. Despite being half Yuma’s size, Daichi was doing exceptionally well at shutting him up.

I seized the chance to ask about the situation. “But, it’s just such a surprise… _He’s_ the new recruit you were talking about? Why _him?_ ” Every time I had to refer to the dreaded Grizzly, the tone of my voice would immediately sour. Yuma caught this and had probably been mouthing curses at me, as Daichi shot the larger man an unamused glance.

“Yes, Yuma is the new recruit.” he confirmed, “And we’re so glad to have him.”

The other boys immediately broke into a flurry of excited whispers, only proving his point. I guess they didn’t expect their new teammate to be so… _well-built._

Shoulders slackening, I directed my sullen gaze to the floor. Only moments later, Daichi tilted his head to meet my scowl, a small smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I hope you guys can work things out.” He let out another sigh, addressing the both of us. “If not… I really don’t think I can keep you both on the team. So… play nice, okay?”

In spite of our reluctance, we were spun around to face each other. Just seeing the Grizzly’s face left an acerbic taste in my mouth. Nevertheless, I swallowed down the distaste, and braced for contact as Daichi placed our hands together.

We visibly squirmed, equally bothered by the temperature contrast of our skin. Fittingly, his fingers sent chills down my spine, while mine were probably uncomfortably hot. Even our hands were of totally different sizes; his buried mine as we shook hands.

It was as if we would only ever contradict one another like this, from now on. Would I ever be able to “play nice” with such a person?

* * *

A painstaking sixty minutes passed, proving itself to be the longest hour of my life. I didn’t dare admit it, but I’d lost focus every time I spotted _his_ infuriating self out of the corner of my eye. Everything about him drove me mad, and it didn’t help that his “incredible” strength left the boys “ooh”-ing and “aah”-ing every other minute.

Releasing a heavy breath, I observed as the Grizzly burst the life out of another volleyball as he spiked it across the net. Lost in thought, I added “ball pumps” to the budget planner.

I hated myself for feeling relieved that he’d acknowledged my presence today. Maybe it was just because I wanted a fighting chance, but no matter; the fact I wanted him to stop giving me the cold shoulder was… _embarrassing._ Someone like Yuma shouldn’t have even mattered, yet he plagued my mind since he stopped speaking to me.

As untasteful as my feelings were, I also despised how easy it was for him to shut me up. Whenever I wanted to physically fight back, I simply couldn’t. He had some sort of influence over me… some unspoken power that I could not draw myself away from.

Just as I agonized over this, our eyes met once more. It was only for a split second, but I felt his amber orbs send waves of electricity through my body. The sensation left me even more rattled than before.

Driven by frustration, I worked at an incredible speed. The club meeting was over, and everyone filed out as I started my last task: returning the equipment to storage.

Heaving the last of the volleyballs into a cart, I rolled the equipment towards the back of the gymnasium and into the storage room. Among the endless piles of volleyballs were hula hoops, cones, and even dumbbells. The variety of sports gear made me wonder why someone as bulky as Yuma wasn’t hurling basketballs into nets or lifting giant weights. There were so many popular sports clubs, so why settle for the underdogs?

**“You missed one.”**

“Oh—!”

I stumbled back as a volleyball was flung into my arms. Coolly, Yuma stepped into the storage room, examining some equipment out of the blue.

My narrowed eyes were fixed upon him as I placed the ball away, rubbing my palms after the impact. He turned to glance at me, and I became painfully aware of the fact that we were the only ones here.

Instinctively, I backed away towards the door, lips pursed.

 **“Oi! Why’re you running?”** Yuma grunted, itching the back of his neck, **“Acting like I’m gonna hit you or somethin’...”**

Jaw slackening, I gawked up at him.

_Because you nearly punched me that time!_

Yuma’s sturdy hands sat comfortably in his pockets, his loosened shoulders indicating he wasn’t going to bite. Perhaps it was due to all the praising and adoration he’d received today, but it looked like the man was simply loitering around. Maybe this time, I could safely pry out the answers I needed…

We stared at each other, a cloud of unease congesting the room. There was so much I wanted to know, so much I was unaware of. With his steely eyes pressing me to speak, I finally gave in.

Slowly but surely, I began my interrogation. “You know, you’re really strange.” I declared, eliciting the quirk of his brow. “Why are you being so wishy-washy, getting all sensitive one day, and then ignoring me the next? Not to mention… you joined the same club as me...”

At my curiosity, his sculpted features perked, a wry smile growing on his lips. I knew in a second from his raised chin that I’d made a terrible blunder. A flurry of panic gripped at my chest, leaving me on edge as I awaited his reply.

 **“You’ve been thinking about me all day,”** he chuckled, voice dropping low. His body snaked towards mine, until I was left squirming against the door. When the man drew his face near mine, I shut my eyes closed, searching desperately for the door handle.

 _**“Good.”** _ Yuma smirked, his warm breath making me shudder, **“‘Cause that was the whole point.”**

Eyes snapping open, I watched in horror as he stepped back, glowing with satisfaction.

His grin only widened when I stood there, speechless. **“Hah… I can’t believe how easy this is…”** Yuma admitted, arms folded behind his head, **“I don’t even have to** **_make_ you pay—you just jump right into my traps!” **

Paling, I parted my lips to speak, but the shock of it all stopped me short. I swallowed hard, attempting to register the situation.

_This entire time… I was being toyed with?_

There was no denying it. Ever since we’d rubbed each other up the wrong way, Mukami Yuma was always on my mind. Even at the inn, a place of solace and security, I would sometimes recall his face. But the amount of energy I’d spent agonizing over how to rid myself of him was all useless; it was exactly what he’d wanted.

He didn’t care about ethics, or even a fair fight. It was all my own assumptions, my own worries that ended up being used against me.

I had underestimated how cruel he really was. How much he actually hated me, for whatever insane reason.

 **“How does it feel?”** he gloated, **“To be humiliated? To be caught thinking about me for over a week?”**

Slackening my shoulders, I released a shaky breath. I blinked back the hurt boiling within me, and heaved myself off the door. A burning fury entered my gaze as I managed to stare him down.

In his callous eyes lay no compassion. They glittered with triumph, elated with my current appearance. It was clear to me that this man had no soul. As such, it was only fitting that I shed any bit of mercy as well, cast aside all hope of letting him off easy.

“You’re despicable.” I spat, turning away from him and out the door. “I really was a fool!”

I was done with caring about how he viewed me. I was done dealing fairly with him. He would always find me spiteful and ruthless, so why should I try to prove him wrong?

With these thoughts running through my head, I stormed off. As I did so, I could feel two eyes plastered on the back of my skull.

* * *

Unfortunately, my first class would be with the despicable Mukami, so I decided to take some time to compose myself.

I entered the bathroom, making sure no one was there to witness any possible tears. Once I was sure I was alone, I slipped my hands under the automatic faucet, rinsing my face clean. I peered at myself through the mirror, and swallowed back a crumbling pride.

Rubbing away droplets of water from my chin, I cleared my throat, and breathed in, out, in, out…

Until I could finally square my shoulders and lift my head up, I did not move an inch. There was no way I would stride through the halls without readying myself for another encounter with Yuma, knowing what he’d done.

_I just have to bear through this… then, I’ll do what I should have done all along…_

My eyes narrowed. I tossed a used paper towel in the trash bin, and once ready, headed for the door.

_There’s no other choice. From now on, I’m going to be cruel._

* * *

Students flocked about the lobby, excited to finally be free from school for the weekend. I’d somehow made it in one piece, even managing to ignore Yuma’s antics during first period.

Today, I didn’t have time to linger around the main hall like the others; I was on a mission, one that would finally return things to the way they should be.

Ran asked why I was such a hurry, and I turned to smile back at her.

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured, “I’m just… returning a favor.”

With that, I bounded off towards the Administration Building, a separate branch from the main building. Weaving past students in the courtyard and towards the left wing made for a reminder of how large this school really was. Though I spotted some familiar faces along the way, much of the dispersed crowds of people were underclassmen.

Eventually, the chatter grew distant, and the doors for the Administration Building came into view. Yet just as I was headed towards them, I heard laughter, along with the sound of someone thudding against brick wall.

“Help—!” a meek voice called out, only to be deafened by the taunting of those hurting him. Instinctively, I strayed from the doors and turned the corner, finally spotting the display from across the side of the building. Four boys cornered a fragile-looking fifth, backs arched and looming over him.

“Ugh,” I muttered, an acerbic taste entering my mouth. I’d almost forgotten that Yuma wasn’t the only rotten apple to be dealt with.

It wasn’t long before I stomped up behind the bullies, hands on my hips. “And what do you think you’re doing here?” I boomed, making the underclassmen swivel towards me.

Bad choice. They weren’t the bulkiest, but they were many. I’d been so heated up from seeing the injustice that I landed myself into hot water; the boys broke into guffaws at my attempt to shut them down, and began cornering _me,_ instead.

“ _Ooh_ , looks like someone wants to help,” one of them pointed out, baring crooked, pubescent teeth. I would have laughed if it weren’t for the fact that they drew nearer, one close enough to grab me.

When I glanced behind them in hopes of seeking the other boy’s help, I found myself out of luck. The victim was wise; he had already darted out of there.

Clearing my throat, I attempted to negotiate, only to be pummelled with mockery. Obviously irritated that their prey escaped, one of the bullies wrenched me by the arm.

“What’re you staring at, huh?” he demanded, inducing a high-pitched scream. I struggled to break free of his grip, pleading for help as they started pilfering my schoolbag.

I was almost certain that I would be left with a black eye and no wallet, until a large fist hurled itself against the bully holding me, sending him soaring backwards. His friends shrieked, backing away at the sight of a towering being and his shadow.

I didn’t even need to look up to know who’d come to my rescue. A scarier than usual Yuma cracked his knuckles, lolling his head backwards as he did weeks before. For once, I was relieved to see that signature move.

 **“...Hey, stop being so cowardly and face me head on!”** he roared, advancing towards them. The boys whispered frantically, and once they’d verified that yes, this was the infamous Mukami who’d split someone’s skull with his pinky, they disappeared into thin air.

We watched as they scrambled away. But not for long.

Yuma directed his attention towards a breathless me, awaiting praise. For a moment, I considered humoring him, but just as quickly thought otherwise. He didn’t deserve praise, let alone thanks. Not after how he treated me.

“You know, I didn’t need your help,” I stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I could have handled it myself.”

 **“ _Riiight_** **,”** he drawled, smirking, **“Because you weren’t just screaming,** **_‘Help me! Please, someone!’_ ** **”** He clasped his hands together and pouted his lips, his voice rising in pitch as he reenacted my pleas.

Brows furrowed, I watched in disbelief. “Ugh! You really are the worst,” I proclaimed, turning on my heel. There was no way I’d ever let him catch me in a situation like that, again!

Not long after, rich laughter rang through the air. I twisted back around to find the Grizzly chortling, genuinely savoring my reactions. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t in the mood to admire his pleasant expression; his passiveness was, frankly, annoying. I’d reached my limit, and in exasperation, asked if this was really so enjoyable for him.

 **“Yeah, it’s fun to see you get annoyed,”** Yuma admitted, after finally containing his laughter, **“When you’re in pain, I’m over the moon.”**

His answer only churned flames of contempt within me.

_Ladies and gentlemen, a sadist! A real sadist!_

_I can’t take any more of this. It’s time to pull out my trump card._

I let out what was possibly the longest sigh that day, and mustered the energy to plaster on a smile. The corner of my lips twitched as I approached him, my sudden change in demeanor throwing him off guard.

“You know what,” I began, maintaining the forced smile, “If you’re enjoying it so much, I should start enjoying it, too.”

 **“Hah?”** The man eyed me suspiciously, mouth drooping.

Knowing his dislike for the act, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and dusted it off calmly. “Don’t worry, Yuma,” I murmured, batting my lashes oh-so-sweetly, “I’ll return the favor.”

Before he could seek clarification, I marched off, past the corner and into the Administration Building.

* * *

Once out of sight, my saccharine smile became a real one. Grinning from ear to ear, I curled my hands into fists, and silently cheered myself on.

With newfound confidence, I approached one of three information desks, requesting to see the headmaster immediately. I knew it was wrong, but I hinted at the fact that I was, indeed, the soon-to-be manager of the beloved inn. The man behind the desk nodded quickly, ushering me to sit in the waiting area.

The few minutes I sat were spent restlessly. My eyes flitted from one painting to the next, unable to admire the handiwork amidst the anticipation.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long after that I was brought into the headmaster’s office.

Inhaling deeply, I set foot onto the polished floor, and stepped towards the mahogany desk fixated before a seemingly endless window. A willowy, hollow-cheeked man sat behind the desk, his balding head cushioned by a leather chair. Despite his erect posture and bony fingers, there was genuine interest in his gaze.

He welcomed me inside, his dulcet voice making it hard not to beam. I nestled into one of the loveseats, and he joined me. Sitting just across from me, the headmaster opened with some small talk—talk about the inn, my grandfather, and how I liked working there. We chatted over tea and I was convinced he had nothing better to do, until he finally inquired as to what my business was.

Setting the teacup down, I broke into a self-assured smile. “I’d like to talk about something— _someone_ —who’s been bothering me for a while.”

Headmaster raised his brows, leaning forward in his seat.

“Mukami Yuma. Year Three.”

The last bit was added for clarification, but no need. A foul expression entered the man’s face, and he sipped back a possible curse.

“What has he done now?” Headmaster wondered aloud, setting his own cup down. When he pressed a hand to his temple, I cleared my throat.

“Many, _many_ things.” I revealed, lips then curling upwards, “But I’m not here to get him expelled, nor suspended.”

The elderly man cocked a brow, intrigued. “Oh?”

My gaze was unwavering as I continued, “Let me help. Let me take care of this problem… once and for all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS, I accidentally posted the chapter in its pre-editing stage. Ah, well. (I managed to fix some things, so hopefully it looks and reads better, now!)
> 
> As usual, hope you're enjoying the story. This is by far my favorite chapter!


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